She had imagined that prisons were white-tiled places, reeking of lime-wash and immaculately sanitary. It feels like it. “Who is there to care and—John. Her eyes were lit with mirth, the corners of her mouth quivered. I am a young person seeking employment and freedom and self-development, just as in quite our first talk of all I said I wanted to be. One might suppose him turning up; he knew a lot of clever people, and some of them might belong to the class. 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. ” Shari remarked as she gestured to Lucy’s reflection in the mirror.
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