When she spoke, her lips twitched. Not the most stringent search, conducted all morning, turned up one solitary sheet. Lucy changed into her Goodwill jeans and sweatshirt, plastering her hair down with an elastic band and securing it under a tight hood. She thought of her father in the garden, and of her aunt with her Patience, as she had seen them—how many ages was it ago? Just one day intervened.
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