\" She handed the ticket seller, a boy that looked to be all of eighteen years old, murder money that she had stolen from Dawn Plote's dead son, five dollars. I get the feeling that you are special, so alone, so beautiful that I must get to the bottom of you if it takes my whole life. He was beautiful and perfect, his blue eyes smiling at her. She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes.
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