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This hand consigned him to destruction, but another was stretched forth to save him. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers. And one must—some of it must slip through one’s fingers. I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales. This foster child’s name was Mary Lucia Iovelli, and we have photographic documents of a woman who looks exactly like you, dear.
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This video was uploaded to srpskaforum.com on 21-09-2024 03:17:08
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