This island was the one haven he had; he might be forced to remain here for several years—until the Hand had forgotten him. “Is this true, Annabel? Is he dead?” She nodded. A sound sleeper, she was not roused by the creaky openings and closings of drawers as Lucy packed a single duffle bag with underwear and soap that was pilfered from a multipack of Zest in the Beck’s downstairs bathroom. " Thus urged, the damsels began to raise their voices in loud lamentation.
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