’ ‘But what of justice?’ asked Lucilla, evidently dazed. Groups of boys took to ogling her as she walked frenetically from class to class. The doctor laughed. The same pale white buttocks, the same freckles in the same unchanging patterns on her collarbone that all of her mother’s potions had never been able to erase. He would know her address to-morrow. And if sometimes I grow heady—and it's in the blood— remind me of this day when you took me out of hell—a thief.
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