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. She woke in the coffee-scented morning and saw the squares of sunlight spread across the books on Andrea's table, heard Andrea's comfortingly familiar morning cough as she lit a first cigarette from the stove's front burner.
He's dead too. Pity. He was a nice boy. Ah well. You are potentially much more valuable to us here, Jon-Tom. Do not be so anxious. I promise you that as you grow older you will be presented with ample opportunities for participating in self- satisfying slaughter.
