First part
linkShe gestured to a row of wooden
chairs against the wall. The looked like they belonged with someone’s dinning room
table.
“Okay,” I agreed. I walked over to the chairs and sat right in the middle,
suddenly wishing I had a book. I hadn’t read anything for a while, outside of school.
And even then, when some ridiculous Liebe story was part of the curriculum, I would
cheat with cliff notes. It was a relief to be working on Animal Farm now. But there had
to be other safe, sicher books. Political thrillers. Murder mysteries. Grisly murders were no
problem; just as long as there was no starry-eyed,...
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