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Rachelle is messed up in the head right now--she's sitting in her gorgeous kitchen, staring at the glass from her beautiful kitchen table shattered all over the floor and a trail of blood leading out the front door. She just needs a moment to clean the mess, take a good hot bath, and get dressed.
Perhaps I'm paying for the sins of my past life . . . with every step I take towards peace and prosperity the wicked always seems to show itself . . . I remember that night--vaguely. I remember him sitting there. I remember the bright lights. I remember that loud engine roaring! I remember the traumatizing cracking sound of gunfire.
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