She did not want to feel such negative emotion towards any member of her foster family. With trembling fingers she opened the post-bag. 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. Somebody to depend upon her; somebody to have need of her, if only for a little while. Instead of which they walked sharply. "But if you do not find this aunt, what will you do? What can you do to protect yourself against hunger?" "I'll find something.
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