“How many times do I have to tell you, Mom?” Darla said, frustrated. “After Franklin Shine decapitated you, he and the other counselors took your body and buried it somewhere in Clear Creek.” “It was his own fault,” Dolores said. “Didn’t you tell me you hunted him because he was making out with a girl?” “He most certainly was. And you know very well what we did to people who looked like they were about to engage in premarital sex back in my day.”
