John Michael Strubhart

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As the woman watched him, her chin began to tremble as though she were standing before an object of incomparable beauty. The child heard her faltering breath, his eyes opening slowly to meet hers. He stiffened and sat upright, edging back toward the pane. "Fear not, little one," she whispered in a faltering voice. "I am here to protect thee."
The Omen
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