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PART THREE - Eighty-Five

“PART THREE:

On the Road

“There are no foreign lands. It is the traveler only who is foreign.”

—Robert Louis Stevenson”

EIGHTY-FIVE

Peter prayed on the floor, notebook in hand. I’ll never fight with Mum again if I get out of this alive. This had changed him, made him see the value in her spite. All he wanted to do was write, but he would give it up to see her face again. He smiled, knowing that when the police found the dead girl rescue wouldn’t be far away.

What Peter didn’t know was that Suzie Marten’s body wouldn’t be found by police for almost two hours. A haystack-toting pickup will stumble upon mother and daughter on the road. It will take another hour and a half for the police to arrive, the farmer constructing a makeshift barricade around the body from his cargo. He would spend his time comforting the woman, throwing rocks to keep the crows away, and at one point chasing a guinea fowl with a torn-off fing
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