They went into Michelle's tiny bedroom, bare except for a dresser, a closet, and a miniscule single bed that resembled her own at the Becks. "Tell him that I—his adopted son, Thames Darrell— am detained here by Jonathan Wild. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. Stars appeared in the periphery of her vision.
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