She walked back to the car. She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. Here they would be having lunch. They then took off their boots, and crept stealthily up stairs, treading upon the point of their toes so cautiously, that not a board creaked beneath their weight. ” Michelle looked at her friend in suspicious awe. What could I do at home? The other’s a crumple-up—just surrender.
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