www.public4you.fora.pl

saleyrxgah

best [link widoczny dla zalogowanych]019
Oh, Mother,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], Tracy thought. I love you so much. You'll never meet Charles,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and you'll never see your grandchild, and she began to weep.
She made a cup of coffee and let it grow cold while she sat in the dark. Tracy wanted desperately to call Charles and tell him what had happened,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], to have him at her side. She looked at the kitchen clock. It was 3:30 A.M. She did not want to awaken him; she would telephone him from New Orleans. She wondered whether this would affect their wedding plans,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], and instantly felt guilty at the thought. How could she even think of herself at a time like this? Lieutenant Miller had said,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], "When you get here,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], grab a cab and come to police headquarters." Why police headquarters? Why? What had happened?
Standing in the crowded New Orleans airport waiting for her suitcase, surrounded by pushing,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], impatient travelers, Tracy felt suffocated. She tried to move close to the baggage carousel,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], but no one would let her through. She was becoming increasingly nervous, dreading what she would have to face in a little while. She kept trying to tell herself that it was all some kind of mistake, but the words kept reverberating in her head: I'm afraid I have bad news for you.... She's dead,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], Miss Whitney.... I hate to break it to you this way....
When Tracy finally retrieved her suitcase, she got into a taxi and repeated the address the lieutenant had given her: "Seven fifteen South Broad Street, please."
The driver grinned at her in the rearview mirror. "Fuzzville, huh?"
No conversation. Not now. Tracy's mind was too filled with turmoil.