His eyes were bleak, the lines of strain beside them etching deeper intohis skin. Theannouncement came out sounding like a promise she knew she couldn'tkeep. His hands were shaking as he eased the book back down onthe hood. She wouldn't feel pain.
Boog scratched nervously at a scab on his chin, his eyes on his blanktelevision. And the clock was ticking. He shook his fork ather, flinging little specks of gravy onto the table. I only want to give you some kind ofcomfort.
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