Her thoughts were busy with the possibilities of this break in her journey. She could feel her body rebel against her actions, convulsing, so she forced herself to think of her mother in Heaven, her mother's beautiful face, the sun dancing across the rivers of her home. “Much as I hate rows, I’ve either got to make a stand or give in altogether. The Reaper is not sated yet. " He did not pause to consider how she had learned that he had imagination; he comprehended only the direct challenge. Had to.
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