Good Christ, what would they do to her? What would become of her?
Carver propped himself against the edge of the table and held both her small, cold hands in his. He bent down and gently placed his lips just below her hairline. She’d recently showered with the prison’s cheap perfumed soap and shampoo. Her hair smelled like lilacs.
He kissed her good-bye.
Вы читаете Kiss
