He was maybe fifty, a little overweight, but still had all his hair–that, or a really high-quality rug. He finally recovered and put out a hand with...a slightly disconcerted smile. ‘Uh, hi, uh, I’m Frank DeMarco,’ he said. ‘You’re Millie, and you are…?’ he looked at me inquiringly.’ The luckiest guy on the planet,’ I said. ‘I’m her husband, Jeff Wilson.’ He looked at Millie, then back at me. ‘You’ll get no argument from me, Mr. Wilson,’ he said with an envious shake of his head. ‘Can I call you. How did you get in here?" she murmured quietly. As her eyes finally opened and adjusted she realized that she had been asleep. A bit of drool in the corner of her mouth had spilled down into a cold puddle. "Oh, you're just a normal child. Not a goblin," she said with a yawn. "Who's dead. Did Agnes finally die?"Just as she was saying that a large group of children came back with a very angry looking Agnes whose face was even more wrinkled up than normal."You scared the children again, Lydia.". More

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