‘Silence,’ hissed a voice in French. Ramage’s bitterness passed as abruptly as his aggression. There was little fighting spirit here. The freezing water lapped around her ankles as she ran along its edge, marveling at the thousands of tiny white spiral shells the tide had brought in. “Be careful,” Lucy cautioned Michelle as she sidestepped a two by four studded with upturned nails. CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance.
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