Страница 49 из 82
Lucy watches a sailboat with furled sails putter past in the night. She wipes her eyes.
“I have a tumor,” she says. “In my brain.”
Страница 49 из 82
Lucy watches a sailboat with furled sails putter past in the night. She wipes her eyes.
“I have a tumor,” she says. “In my brain.”
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