Michelle looked at their reflections in the wall mirror. She thought of an old abandoned barn that she could inhabit further downriver, but shrugged off the idea in disdain. “Lucy, do you forgive me?” She looked at him in earnest. But Darrell averted his head. She was aware of the body of the court, of clerks seated at a black table littered with papers, of policemen standing about stiffly with expressions of conscious integrity, and a murmuring background of the heads and shoulders of spectators close behind her.
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