He took his seat at the table, but leaned forward to address her. She passed him silently as she dropped Michelle’s dried corpse into the open clay pit awkwardly, like a discarded doll. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms.
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