Sheppard, whose maternal fears drew her in another direction, hurried off to the Mint. “I’m sorry Lucy! I’m sorry to Mike too! You were right, we’re a mismatch! I just don’t want to be lonely!” Lucy hugged Michelle. She crept into the living room and turned off the set, adjusting Cathy’s blanket which had fallen to the carpeted floor. Auntie has taken the nails out of my palms, but the scars will always be there. I'm sure she'll let me go, though. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank.
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