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BOOK 6

‘Jill, dear, are you going to be okay?’

Eunice’s worried face hovered behind Jill in the mirror. Her face was bruised, swollen definitely, but nothing was broken. The pimch had landed under her eye and across from her nose on the cheek-bone, so although it had felt like her face had been shattered at the time, Jill knew she was fortunate not to be undergoing cosmetic surgery tonight.

‘I’m fine, Eimice,’ she said, applying another cold compress to her face. ‘I’m starting to get a little sore in my arms and legs, but that will pass, too.’ She sighed deeply, looking down into the washbasin as she rinsed the cloth out. ‘I just wish somebody would call and tell us that Holly is safe.’

Eunice patted her shoulder. ‘The Christmas season means believing, Jill. I believe that Holly will be back here soon, snug in her little basket. I can’t imagine anything else.’

It was the season to believe, and if ever they could use a miracle, now was definitely the time. ‘I just keep hearing her cry . . .’
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