They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. Lucy sprinted to one side to avoid the crash and grabbed at Rhea’s solitary patch of yellow hair, which ripped out loosely in one decayed piece like strands of rotten corn silk. She recalled that she had heard nothing that first time when Gerald and the captain had burst in upon her. It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat.
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