Mr. They had been informally introduced during floor hockey, when Katy had sent a puck flying into Lucy’s face. Shari smiled and Mike whispered to her. "Yes," answered the girl. It had been her father’s surname, and it had sounded far more innocuous and American than Iovelli. It’s not you—not a bit. Woof! What a dog. Somehow. ’ Melusine nodded. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible.
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