Fred crept into the living room; he too had had a rough night, thinking imagining and dozing in alternate short patches. Tim appeared sensing the fea... and apprehension in the air.He slunk away under the table. Finally Holly stretching and wiping sleep from her eyes, her face unworried, her pyjamas ruffled came to the table.She sat refusing any proper breakfast saying her stomach had a problem with butterflies, though she was not showing it she was scared out of her mind. She said she had. Woman that runs it has a boyfriend ain’t supposed to be on the premises but there he is. And he and his two brothers start raping me every fucking day and tell me ain’t nobody going to believe me ’cause my grandma’s running a whorehouse and selling drugs. Got that reputation because of vermin like you, she was trying to run a nice, clean French Quarter style bar here, but y’all got to go and fuck that all up. Well, I took a chance. There was a coptalking at our school, telling us about drugs. More

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