The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. “A very clear statement, madam,” he said. She heard the ocean in the distance, waves crashing on the beach, high tide. My death, probably. Sheppard, with an agonized look at Wood.
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