Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict. " "Where—where?" cried Thames. Melusine, I’ve remembered something that may help you. The odds were astounding and yet he had it bad. He stood up abruptly and went to the window. "I must see him to-night. I don't believe he is much past forty. It was common name, so I was thrown off the scent. 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.
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