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Two Days Earlier 4 page





Behind a low brick wall, the house stretched across a wide lawn. A big modern house, gray shingles, with a terrace between the house and the garage. Small windows on this side. The side facing the bay was probably mostly glass. A single light cast a faint glow over the front door. Two well‑trimmed evergreen bushes rose on both sides of the entrance.

Andy stopped the car near the front walk and cut the wipers and the headlights. He sat motionless for a while, staring at the rainwater rolling in waves down the windshield. Thunder crackled somewhere far in the distance.

He realized he had his hands balled into tight fists. The meatball hero weighed heavily in his stomach. You’re forty, Pavano. Maybe you need a better diet.

It wasn’t age. It was tension. Sure, he was tense. Who wouldn’t be?

Who on earth would want to do this job?

He glanced into the mirror. Saw his eyes gazing accusingly back at him.

Get it over with.

He picked his cap up from the passenger seat and pulled it down over his thinning hair. He had an umbrella, but it was in the trunk. He pushed open the door, slid his legs around, and climbed out of the car. He was drenched before he got the trunk lid open.

Perfect.

The umbrella caught and refused to open.

Even more perfect.

He spun away from the car, slipped on the flagstone walk, caught his balance, and jogged to the safety of the overhang above the front door. Lights were on, but no sign of any movement in the front window.

Water rolled down the brim of his cap. He shook his head hard, then pressed the bell. He could hear it chime inside.

Footsteps. Then a man pulled open the door and stared out at him in a pool of bright light. “Yes?”

Andy gazed at the man’s startled face. He was dark and had a stubble of beard on his cheeks. He reminded Andy of.. reminded him of that actor.. He had just watched Brokeback Mountain a few weeks before. Not his kind of thing, although the scenery was pretty.

And, yes. This guy looked just like that actor with the funny name. He wore designer jeans and a white dress shirt. He held a can of beer in one hand.

“Can I help you, Officer?”

Andy nodded solemnly. “Perhaps I should come in?”

A woman appeared behind the man. She had short black hair and a drawn face, kind of weary‑looking. She had a baggy brown sweater pulled down over black leggings. “Who is it, Mark?”

“A police officer. I don’t understand‑”

Andy felt his throat tighten. Gusts of wind blew the rain under the overhang.

Just get it over with. No way you can make it any better.

What was he supposed to say first? What was he supposed to ask them? He couldn’t think straight.

“Sir,” he started, raising his voice over the wind, “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I have bad news.”

The man and woman both gasped. Her mouth dropped open. The beer can slid out of the man’s hand and hit the floor.

“I’m really sorry, sir,” Andy said, suddenly breathless. “But they sent me to tell you that your wife has been killed.”

 

 

T he woman let out a cry and grabbed the banister beside her, struggling to hold herself up.

The man made a choking sound. He blinked several times. He turned and grabbed the woman’s hand.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Andy said, lowering his eyes. Rain pelted the back of his uniform shirt.

“How‑” the man started. He made the choking sound again. The woman started to sob, burying her face behind the man’s shoulder.

“It was a traffic accident.” Andy kept his eyes down, partly not to see their grief. He had to force his voice to stay steady. “On Stephen Hands. Near 114. The Easthampton police‑they didn’t want to tell you on the phone. They asked me‑”

The man’s expression changed. His eyes went wide. He raised a hand to say halt. The woman lifted her head and squinted at Andy. Tears glistened on her pale cheeks.

“That can’t be,” the woman choked out. “You’re wrong.”

“My wife.. she is away,” the man said, staring hard into Andy’s eyes. “She’s on an island off South Carolina. She isn’t in Easthampton.”

 

Andy’s throat tightened again. He swallowed hard. “Mr. Hamlin, I was told‑”

“He’s not Mr. Hamlin, you idiot!” the woman screamed. Her hands balled into tight fists. “He’s not Mr. Hamlin. Oh, I don’t believe it. I don’t fucking believe it.” She pounded the banister.

“I’m Mark Sutter,” the man said. He slid an arm around the woman’s trembling shoulders. “Roz, please‑”

But she pulled away and flung herself toward Andy, furiously shaking her head. “How could you do that? How could you be so stupid? Why didn’t you ask our names first?”

“I.. was nervous,” Andy said. “I should have done that. Really. I didn’t mean‑”

Could I just dive headfirst into the bay and drown myself now?

“I think you want Bluff Point,” Sutter said softly. “This is John Street.”

“Oh my God.” The words tumbled out of Andy’s mouth. “I am so totally sorry. I hope.. I mean.. The rain. It’s so dark.. ”

What could he say? “I’m sick about this, sir. Ma’am.” He really did feel sick.

They glared at him, both breathing hard. Sutter reached for the doorknob.

“I can only apologize,” Andy repeated. “I’m new out here, and, well.. I’m so sorry. If you’d like to report me to my chief, I can give you my ID.”

Roz spun away. She disappeared into the house. Sutter shook his head. “You should get out of the rain, Officer.”

Andy nodded.

The door closed. He heard the lock click.

He stood there for a moment, letting the rain batter him.

Perhaps I’ll laugh about this in a few weeks. Tell it like a funny joke.

He suddenly found himself thinking of the Police Academy movies. The cops were all total idiots.

I should join them.

He sighed and strode slowly to the car. No reason to run. He couldn’t get any wetter. He slid behind the wheel. A cold shudder ran down his back.

The radio squealed. “Pavano, you there?” Vince’s distorted voice.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“How’d it go?”

 

 

“L et go of me! Please! Don’t hurt me!” Lea cried.

Mumbling crazily to himself, the man dragged her to a pile of boards and stones. His eyes were wild, bulging wide, his gaze darting from side to side. He didn’t seem to hear her cries.

He’s gone crazy from the storm.

What does he plan to do to me?

Then she saw the bare‑chested boy, a stream of long hair hanging down over his face. His mud‑drenched shorts clung to his hips as he bent over a pile of rubble. He appeared to be struggling with something in the pile.

As the man pulled her nearer, Lea heard the shrill screams. And saw the openmouthed, terrified face of a woman peering up from below a ragged crisscross of boards.

The boy had her by the hands and was tugging with all his strength, crying and tugging, trying to free her from beneath the caved‑in house. The woman tossed her black hair wildly, her head tilted back in pain, and she shrieked in agony.

“Help,” the man grunted, letting go of Lea. He motioned toward the screaming woman. “Help me.”

He lifted the boy out of the way. He gave Lea a gentle push and motioned for her to take one of the woman’s flailing hands.

I must have been the first person he saw. He’s obviously in a total panic.

She gripped the woman’s hand tightly. It felt cold and damp, like a small drowned animal. She gave the hand a gentle squeeze‑and the woman screamed.

Startled, Lea dropped the hand and jumped back. Her heart was pounding in her throat. She had to open her mouth to breathe.

Don’t panic. You can do this.

The man motioned Lea to grab one corner of a slab of drywall. Lea grabbed it. They tugged in unison and managed to slide it a few inches off the woman’s chest.

The woman shrieked and wailed, batting her head from side to side.

Lea pulled up on a broken two‑by‑four. The man grabbed it from her and heaved it aside.

Then he turned back to the woman and wrapped his big hand around hers. The woman screamed again. Lea knew she’d hear these screams in her nightmares. Screams that seemed to have no end.

The man gave Lea a signal with his eyes. Working in unison, they forced the woman nearly to a sitting position. Then the man reached behind her back. Lea took her hands and gave a hard pull. With a moan of pain, the woman rose up, rose up in Lea’s hands. Rose up..

Lea heard a wrenching sound. Like fabric tearing.

She gasped as the woman came stumbling out, falling toward her. Her face showed no relief. In fact, it twisted into a knot of agony. She pulled her hands free from Lea and shrieked in an inhuman animal wail: “My leg! My leg! My leg! My leg!”

Lea gasped. The woman was balanced on one leg. Blood poured from an open tear in her other side.

“Oh my God!” Lowering her gaze, Lea saw the ragged flesh of the woman’s other leg trapped beneath the pile of debris. A white bone poked up from the torn skin.

No. Oh no.

The other leg. We left it behind.

It’s torn off. I pulled it off. I pulled her leg off!

Blood showered the ground from the open tear in the woman’s body.

“My leg! My leg! My leg! My leg! My leg!”

The man stood hulking in openmouthed shock. Fat tears rolled down the boy’s red, swollen cheeks.

Heart pounding so hard her chest ached, Lea searched frantically for help. No one. No one around.

What could even a doctor do?

She and the boy and the weeping man took the woman by her writhing shoulders and lowered her gently into her own pool of blood. They stretched her out on the dirt, and the man dropped down beside her, soothing her, holding her hand, cradling her head till she grew too weak to scream.

Lea staggered away. She knew she couldn’t help. She stumbled away, holding her stomach with both hands, gasping shallow breaths of the heavy, salted air. She wandered aimlessly into the wails and screams, the moans, the howls of disbelief, the symphony of pain she knew she would hear in her nightmares.

I’m not here. I’m asleep in our bed at home. I have to get Ira and Elena to school. Mark, give me a shove and wake me up. Mark?

“My babies! My babies!”

The woman’s shrill howls shook Lea from her thoughts. She turned and saw a grim‑faced worker holding two tiny lifeless figures, cradling one in each arm, as if they were alive. But their heads slumped back, eyes stared glassily without seeing, arms and legs dangled limply, lifelessly.

The shrieking woman, tripping over the jutting wreckage of her fallen house, followed after them, waving her arms above her head. “My babies! My babies!”

Lea lowered her eyes as they passed by. I’m in Hell.

Suddenly, she pictured Starfish House. Was the little rooming house still standing? And what of Macaw and Pierre? Were they okay? Had they survived? Her laptop was there. Her clothes. All of her belongings.

How to get across the island? James’s truck was useless. The road would be impassable. She could walk, but it would be a walk of endless horrors.

A steady drone, growing louder, wormed its way into her consciousness. A hum quickly becoming a roar.

“Help is already on the way.”

Lea turned to see James behind her. He had changed into baggy gray sweats. His eyeglasses had a layer of white powder over the lenses. Behind them, his eyes were bloodshot and weary.

She followed his gaze to the sky and saw the helicopters, five or six of them, pale green army helicopters, hovering low, moving along the shoreline.

“They probably can’t believe what they’re seeing down here, either,” she murmured. She shivered.

James lowered his hands to her shoulders. “Are you okay, Lea?”

She nodded. “I guess.”

His eyes locked on her, studying her. “No, I mean, really. Are you okay?”

“I.. I’m upset. No. I’m horrified. But I’m okay, James. I was just thinking about Macaw and Pierre.. ”

“Martha and I will walk you to your rooming house. It won’t take long. Maybe half an hour.”

“But‑”

“If there’s a problem there, you can come back and stay with us.” He kept staring at her, as if searching for something she wasn’t telling him.

Lea pictured the little white building with its bright yellow shutters and the sign over the entryway: Starfish House. She saw Macaw in her bright red‑and‑fuchsia plumage; Pierre, bored, hunched over the front desk, thumbing through a magazine, humming to himself.

“Yes. I hope there’s no problem,” she said.

But there was a problem. A sad and sickening problem.

 

 

S taring at the wreckage, Lea hoped she had made a mistake. Maybe I’m in the wrong place. But the sign still stood, crooked on its pole: Starfish House. The two‑story house had toppled forward. The walls had collapsed on themselves, folded like an accordion on its side. And now the whole house lay in a broken, ragged heap, a low mountain of soaked and cracked boards and crumbled shards of drywall.

“No. Oh no.” Lea covered her face with her hands. She turned to James and Martha, expecting them to be close, but she saw them across the road, helping to pull someone out from under an overturned car.

“No. No. No.”

She stepped onto the fallen front door. It sank into the wet ground. She caught her balance and started to shout. “Macaw? Pierre? Are you here? Can you hear me?”

Boards cracked and settled. A window casing toppled onto its side. Lea screamed and jumped back, thinking the house might fall on her.

“Macaw? Pierre?”

No answer. They must have gotten out safely before the house fell in.

But what was that splash of red from under a fallen slab of wall? A scarf?

Stepping carefully, Lea made her way onto the pile of debris and climbed closer. She stopped with a gasp when she saw the hand lying so flat.. the hand, smeared with dark blood, reaching out from under a wall board.. the hand open as if waving.. waving good‑bye?

Lea’s stomach churned. She fought the sour taste rising to her mouth. “Macaw?”

She stumbled forward, grabbed the side of a wall, and hoisted herself higher on the pile. “Oh no. No.” The splash of red was the sleeve of a dress.

Forgetting safety, Lea dove toward it. She slipped on a broken board. Banged her knee on something sharp. Ignoring the pain, she climbed to the red sleeve. She could see more of the dress beneath the edge of the wall board.

“Macaw?” Her voice trembling and tiny. “No. Oh no. Macaw?”

She stared at the pale hand, on its back, like a dead bird.

Macaw was trapped beneath a slab of wall board. Lea’s stomach lurched again. She could feel the cold fear prickling her skin. She didn’t think. She grabbed the top corner of the slab‑and pulled. Hoisted it up.

It slid more easily than she had imagined. She almost toppled over backward.

She raised the wall board. Gazed down. Down at Macaw’s lifeless face. At the puncture.. the puncture.. the blood‑smeared puncture in her eye.

Lea gasped. She opened her mouth to scream, but couldn’t make a sound.

The nail at the corner of the board‑the rusted eight‑inch nail, fatter than a pencil.. Lea stared at the nail, then down to the blood‑caked puncture in the dead woman’s eye socket.

And she knew. She knew that when the wall fell in, the nail had been driven into Macaw’s eye.. eight inches.. driven through her eye and into her brain.

 

 

L ea felt a sharp stab of pain in her right eye. She uttered a cry and pressed a hand over both eyes. Sympathy pain. It happened every time Ira or Elena hurt themselves.

The wall board fell from her hand and smacked the tumble of boards at her feet. The pile rumbled and slid beneath her. Eyes still covered, she struggled to keep her balance. Waited for the pain to fade.

A dog howled. She heard shrill, alarmed voices behind her.

“Mes enfants? Avez‑vous vu mes enfants?”

“Do you live in the village?”

“The village is no more.”

Dazed, Lea wandered away from the voices. No way to escape. She could go only as far as the beach. And even there, the moans and howls of stricken people mingled with the crash of the waves. The beach was littered with death, a long line of dead starfish.

As if the stars of heaven had fallen to the sand.

And then the red raindrops came down, soft at first, then in curtains like a waterfall of blood. The blood of the hurricane victims raining down, although there were no clouds in the sky.

And the twin angels emerged from the red rain. Two identical blond boys, so frail and thin, with glowing blue eyes, sad eyes. They walked over the rain‑spattered sand toward Lea, seemingly oblivious of the red drops falling around them.

“Can I help you?” she called. They’re so beautiful. So beautiful and sad.

They didn’t answer. They stopped and lowered their heads. They stood there perfectly still, blond hair gleaming so brightly as if the rain hadn’t touched it. Their thin bodies appeared to tremble.

She took a step toward them, sandals sinking in the sand. “Are you cold? The rain. Where are your shirts?”

“It’s all gone, mum,” one of them said. He raised his blue eyes to her.

“Gone?”

The rain pattered more gently. The red curtains dissolved into raindrops. The world brightened to a yellow‑gray glare. She wiped rain off her forehead.

“Our house is gone, mum,” the boy said. He had a high‑pitched voice, more like a five‑year‑old. They have to be ten or twelve, Lea thought.

“Where do you live?”

He shrugged his slender shoulders. “Nowhere now.”

His twin let out a sigh. He kicked a wet clump of sand with a bare foot.

“You mean‑?”

“It’s all gone, mum. All of it.”

Lea was staring at them so intently, she hadn’t realized the rain had stopped. She swept her hands back, squeezing red water from her hair. Behind her, she could hear excited voices. Alarmed voices. People shouting about the blood rain.

“What’s your name?”

“Daniel, mum. This is my bruvver Samuel.”

Samuel nodded but didn’t speak.

Lea wanted to hug them. Wrap them both in her arms. Tell them everything would be okay. My heart is breaking for them. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this strange emotion.

“Can I help you? I mean, are you lost? Can I take you to your house?”

Daniel shook his head. “We don’t have a house anymore,” he said in an even tinier voice.

His brother sighed again. His blue eyes were watery, but his face revealed no emotion at all.

Is he in shock? she wondered.

“Where are your parents?”

“Gone, mum.”

“Gone? Do you mean‑?”

“Dead, mum. In the storm, don’t you know. We lost them.”

“Oh my God.”

We lost them. What a grown‑up way to say it. Not childlike at all.

What could she say? Trembling in their baggy little shorts, they looked so small and frail and frightened. Again, she felt the powerful urge to wrap her arms around them and hug them. Protect them from this whole nightmare.

But of course that was impossible. She couldn’t protect herself from the nightmare. Once again she saw Macaw’s dead face with the nail puncture through her splattered eyeball.

“Is there someone else in your family? Aunts and uncles? Your grandparents?”

They shook their heads.

“No one,” Daniel said. His twin still hadn’t spoken. “It’s just us now, mum.”

Lea spun around. Where were James and Martha? She couldn’t see them from the beach.

Waves crashed against the shore. An upside‑down canoe was carried onto the sand and tumbled to a stop against a steep sand hill. Seagulls soared low, chattering loudly.

“I’ll take you to your house. You can get some clothes,” Lea said.

“It was washed away,” Daniel said, lowering his eyes. “All of it. Everything. Washed away. Samuel and I, we watched it go.”

Samuel nodded.

“And you have no one? You’re all alone?” Lea realized she was repeating herself. She didn’t want to believe it.

“Just our friend.” Samuel spoke up for the first time. He had a high, little boy’s voice like Daniel.

“Friend?”

Daniel stepped in front of his twin. “He means me, mum. I’m his only friend.” He gave Samuel a scowl. “His brain right now is kind of like shepherd’s pie. You know. Everything all mixed together like.”

Lea waited for Samuel to reply. But he lowered his eyes again and remained silent.

These two beautiful boys‑what will happen to them now?

Ira and Elena flashed into her mind. She pictured them getting ready for school. The gulped‑down breakfast. The yawns and groans and protests. The lost homework. The wrestling with Axl, Roz’s funny child. Axl liked to jump on their backs and ride them around the room, especially when they were in a hurry and had no time for him.

Was Roz worried about Lea? Thinking about her right now?

Mark should be home from his book tour by now. Would he drive the kids to school or leave it to Roz? Or did he keep them home to watch the hurricane news on TV? Were they suffering? Not knowing if she’d survived..

Were they trying to reach her online? Her laptop was buried somewhere in the wreckage of the rooming house. Wreckage.

“Can you help us, mum?”

Daniel’s tiny voice broke into her thoughts. He stepped forward and took her hand. His hand felt soft and cold in hers. He gazed up at her with pleading, wide eyes.

They’re so adorable. Angels. Really.

“Can you help my brother and me?”

Lea squeezed his tiny cat’s paw of a hand. And she felt something.

She didn’t know what it was at first. She was trying hard not to think about what had happened here and what she saw all around her. But holding the boy’s soft hand, she felt a strong connection.

It was so sad. So sad and overwhelming. She didn’t want to think at all. She wanted to push it all away. Yesterday. Today. This dreadful morning. Push it away forever.

But she felt a powerful attraction to this boy and his nearly silent brother. Something warm and soft and real. Two creatures who really needed her. And this crazy feeling that she needed them.

“Yes. Yes, I think I can help you.”

 

 

L ater, Martha warned her that she was being too hasty. “You don’t know anything about these boys. You are acting on pure emotion. You need to wait till you can think about it clearly. Do some research. Try to find out something about them.”

“They’re so sad and alone, Martha. They break my heart. Really.”

“All the more reason to take it slow,” Martha insisted. “I know you said you feel a connection, but‑”

“Not just a connection. I can’t describe it. It’s something like love, I guess. I mean, love at first sight. No. That’s crazy. But I just feel. I don’t know what I feel. I just feel I could be a good mother to them and‑”

“Look how mixed up you are, Lea. At least let me do some research. That’s what I do, you know. Let me see what I can find out before you take them home with you.”

But Lea, not persuaded, couldn’t wait to talk to Mark.

“Mark, it’s what we wanted.”

“You’re breaking up, Lea. Are you on your cell?”

“No. The national guard set up some special lines. I had to wait in line an hour. No one has phones or internet or anything.”

“I read online they’re working on it. They’ve got the coast guard and the national guard and‑”

 

“I only have a few minutes, darling. We don’t have time to discuss the news. These two boys‑”

“You can’t just snatch them away from their home. I don’t understand‑”

“I’m not snatching them. They don’t have a home. They lost everything here. Their family. Everything. They’re adorable, Mark. They will fit in fine in Sag Harbor. They‑”

“I know you want a big family. You always said it. And we talked about adopting. But this is different, Lea. This is too weird. I mean, to come home with two strange boys. I don’t like it. I really don’t.”

“They’re not strange. They’re frightened and confused. But they’re so sweet, Mark. They‑”

“There are laws, Lea. The authorities there in Le Chat Noir‑”

“What authorities? There aren’t any. The island governor was killed in the hurricane. They found his body a few hours ago. There’s no government here. There’s no police. No offices. Nothing left.”

“Lea, I’m sorry, but I really think this is insane. I think‑”

“Mark, I’m taking them to safety. You can’t imagine what it’s like here. It’s Hell. It’s really Hell. I’ve got to make sure these boys are safe. We can search for relatives after I bring them home. But I feel something for them, Mark. It was this instant thing. I can’t leave them here to die.”

“I suppose we could talk to people here. Immigration people? What country are they from?”

“Country? They’re from here. This island. They’re American. We don’t need immigration people.”

“I don’t want to do this, Lea. You’re upset. You’ve had a terrible scare. You’re not thinking clearly. You sound to me like you might be in a little bit of shock.”

“Stop it, Mark. I’m not in shock. These two boys need us. They‑”

“But we don’t know anything about them.”

“Mark, what do you want to know? They’re adorable little twelve‑year‑old twins. Blond and blue‑eyed. I’m not bringing home two‑headed aliens from another planet. What are you afraid of? Think they have some kind of flesh‑eating island disease? They lost their family. They’re orphans. Someone has to adopt them. So‑”

“It’s going to be a hell of a shock for Ira and Elena. And Roz. And‑”

“They all know we want a big family.”

“But it’s so sudden, Lea.”

“So you’re agreeing? I can bring them home?”

“No. I’m really opposed here. Bringing two island boys to Sag Harbor and expecting them to fit in with our family? No, Lea. Really. Think about it. Wait till your mind is clearer. You know. Calmer. Sleep on it.”

“Sleep on it? You’re joking. Don’t you want me to come home? I have to get off the island. Today is the last day for the rescue boats. Tomorrow will be too late.”

“But Lea‑”

“Listen, honey, it could be your next book. Really. Two orphaned boys from a tiny island are taken to live with a middle‑class family in Sag Harbor. Think of the possibilities, Mark. A study by you of how the boys adapt. What challenges them and what changes them and how they fit in with a family of strangers‑and how they change the family. It could be a terrific follow‑up book. And don’t tell me you already have an idea, because I know you don’t.”

Silence.

“Well? You know it’s a good idea, don’t you, Mark? Think of the wonderful anecdotes‑”

“Anecdotes? It’s our life, Lea. It’s not anecdotes. What if these boys‑”

“They’re sweet and sad, Mark. It’s so tragic. They saw their parents carried away by the floodwaters. They lost everything. But they’re adorable. I’m not exaggerating. When you see them, you’ll fall in love with them, too. They’re going to change our lives. You’ll see.”

 

“Daniel, you have to tell the woman about Ikey.” Samuel stood at the open doorway of the fisherman’s shack, white boards planked together to form a one‑room shelter with a flat roof low overhead.

“She’s not a woman. She’s our new mum.” Daniel lay on his back on the flat cot against the wall, hands behind his head.

“Ikey is fishing on the dock,” Samuel said, pointing toward the water. “I can see him from here. You have to tell Mum‑”

Daniel shook his head. He had a strange, smug smile on his face. As if the conversation was funny. “Ikey can’t come. Mum won’t take three of us. She only wants two.”

“You don’t know that. Did you ask her?” Samuel’s voice rose with emotion. He wanted to wipe the smile off his brother’s face. He stepped into the shack, ducking his head under the thick web of fishing nets hanging from the already low ceiling. “Did you ask her?”

Daniel pulled a segment of rope net down to him and twirled it around his hand. “Ikey isn’t pretty like us. Mum doesn’t want him.”

“But she has to know‑”

“No, she doesn’t!” Daniel sat up quickly, blue eyes flaring angrily. A snort escaped his throat. Like an animal show of anger.

Samuel took a step back. He knew his brother’s temper well. It taught him caution at an early age. Arguing with Daniel was such a waste of time. But he had to try. Someone had to look out for their little friend. Samuel had protected Ikey before. From others.

Date: 2015-12-13; view: 348; Íàðóøåíèå àâòîðñêèõ ïðàâ; Ïîìîùü â íàïèñàíèè ðàáîòû --> ÑÞÄÀ...



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