When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. Melusine shrieked an imprecation, and ran the length of the aisle, searching for the weapon she had thrown. " A deep indignant groan followed. ‘What if she does not agree? Could she reveal us, damage us amongst our peers? Are you certain that we should not kill her?’ He asked. He reached for her chin and lifted it up.
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