This double buffetting had sharpened her shrewdness and insight. It was empty. Sebastian dug through the viscous layers of foul-smelling clay with a shovel, each successive insertion creating an obscene sucking noise that ate at her sanity. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. Then he could hear Hilary breathing beside him, and from outside the muted twittering of birds. ‘I can’t tell you the times I’ve wished for a gun to point at Hilary’s head.
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