Uh oh. The look on Isolde’s face says a lot. So cute. So disgusted.


“Uh, Isolde, you better come here.” Ambrose pulled a step stool over so Isolde could peak in.

Mary held her face, staring wide eyed at the detectives. She muttered to herself, slowly and rhythmically, “No, no, no, no, no . . .”

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