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The mock sorrow in the funeral parlor was as unreal to Kelly as her purpose for being there. Who were all these people? Her now dead mother, her father, who insisted he be called Dan. Who would want to know them? Who would want to associate with them?
She turned suddenly, headed up the aisle to the heavily draped doors. As she did, Dan’s merciless eyes followed her. She returned his gaze. As she noted the livid fingernail scars which she had scraped down his cheek three years ago, she shuddered.
She hurried her dark-haired, twenty-year-old body to the exit. She could still feel Dan’s eyes, feasting on the soft-turned calves of her legs.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.