She discovered him sitting upon the floor beside his open trunk. Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict. “Are you cold?” He asked her, cocking his head to one side like a puppy, so close that the heat of his words warmed her cheek. Everything seemed designed to unhinge the mind and make the cat wretched. " "Then I'll lend a helping hand. Michelle shrugged her off. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. He was angry.
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