Chapter 76
Mid morning at the Brownstone.
A blind hand reaches out from under the comforter to silence the shrill beeping of an electronic alarm clock. With a sigh, Bobbie pulls herself to a sit and grabs the robe from the bedpost without opening her eyes. Sniffing the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, her eyes open halfway. Bobbie pulls on the robe, ties it snugly around her waist, slips her feet into her slippers and pads downstairs to the kitchen. With a yawn, Bobbie grabs her favorite mug out of the cupboard and pours herself a cup. Nothing like coffee on a timer to ease yourself into the day. Especially the morning after a sleepless night.
Bobbie sips the steaming brew and inhales deeply. Ambling over to front door, she reaches a hand out to grab the morning paper off the stoop. She could make it through the day now. She had her coffee and newspaper in hand.
Over the years, she'd trained herself to get up early, to take advantage of the quiet solitude in the morning to organize her thoughts before chaos reigned. On school mornings, Lucas would rise from the dead to complain his way through breakfast and getting dressed. Most days he had to be dragged through the routine. But this morning she had the rare opportunity to sleep in because Lucas stayed at his father's the night before.
After a quick perusal of the front page to assure herself of no nasty surprises, Bobbie drops the paper on the kitchen table and heads for her study.
There, in the unlit den, her computer, roused hours before from it's sleep, waits patiently for her. Snapping on the light and lifting the shade on the window, Bobbie settles herself in her comfy office chair and puts her mug on it's coaster, placed far from the keyboard to avoid nasty spills. Deep in her routine, Bobbie launches her browser and email program to check for messages. She sets to work sorting the wheat from the chafe. After years of unrelenting assaults on her mailbox, she's become so inured to the scams and pornography arriving in her inbox, the spam doesn't even register. But one odd message stays her hand.
Subject: Judgment in Two Days!!
To: BettyBoop@portcharles.com
From: Prometheus@mail.com
Win Your Court Case!
For a mere $20,000 in the right pocket, you too can WIN your Court case!
Port Charles Judgments a specialty!
The Honorable Judge Hancock. 21-23-7605A
Don't Delay!
A friend
"What the---?" Bobbie grabs the nearby phone and hits speed dial. She hears a familiar growl on the other end.
"If this is Claude, you're fired!"
"No Luke! Don't hang up!" Bobbie calls out, knowing that she only has a small window of opportunity. She winces at the string of loud expletives. "Please, Luke, this is important."
"AWWW, Barbara Jean, it's always important with you." Luke, clothed in a sleeveless undershirt and boxers, pulls himself up to a sit in his bed. "This had better be good. You're blowing my prime REM sleep."
"I just got this strange email, Luke. I think it's a tip that Carly's judge is on the take!"
"Well of course he's on the take, Darlin'." Blinking blearily, Luke runs a hand over his shortly cropped head. "It's a given with the Quartermaines and the black widow. But proving it is another thing. It'll take more time than we have."
"Well, I think you should see it. There's a string of numbers at the bottom." Bobbie reads it off. "You think it might be an account number?"
"Maybe." Luke picks up his watch on the nightstand. "Damn, Darlin'. I probably got a couple good hours of shut eye."
"Quit your whining and get over here, Luke," Bobbie orders. "I need to see you before Carly and I head over to Margo's."
Luke sighs. "Sheesh you're bossy. Give me a half hour to get over there. But you better have an IV of coffee ready, or I won't be good for anything."
.
Stefan leans back in his chair and rubs his bleary eyes. After countless hours of computer research on Helena's assets, wading through the information on Helena's innumerable investments, holding companies and dummy corporations, his brain is threatening to go numb.
Rising, he goes to the liquor cart to pour himself a glass of water. Stefan takes a moment to review what he knows thus far. While he's found little evidence linking her to Evans, he's certain all of her holdings have a function in her plans. There is always a pattern with her investments and expenditures. Already he can detect a common theme of medical research... but to what exact purpose? Medical research has always been Helena's hobby over the years (how could he forget her experiments on Lesley Webber and Katherine Bell), but in recent months it's almost become an obsession.
Stefan considers the other piece of the puzzle. The exorbitant amount of money she's spending in Port Charles. Even with Helena currently residing in PC, the money she has pouring into Port Charles is significantly more than even her expensive tastes would explain. And why return here, after the revelation that Nikolas is his son and therefore not THE Cassadine? The deeper his research goes, the more convinced he is that there is an ulterior motive for Helena being in Port Charles. More than just toying with him and Nikolas.
Stefan needed to discover her grand plan. Only then would he reveal himself and neutralize her, once and for all. Feeling his purpose renewed, Stefan returns to the computer. Just as he begins to type, his phone rings.
"Stefan Cassadine...." His eyes widen and he quickly grabs a pad and pencil. "Yes... Give me your location and I will be right over."
.
Carly, usually breezy and casual with Vincent, takes a moment to sink into Vincent's hug. After the blows she's taken in the last three days, she'll take whatever comfort is offered. At least with Vincent, she knows his agenda is pure. He's about as safe as a friend can come.
Vincent strokes Carly's head soothingly. "It's okay, Sweetheart. You know I understand how it is."
Despite her best efforts to keep a lid on her emotions, her face is damp when she pulls away. She smiles sheepishly as she swipes the tears. "Sorry. I didn't mean to do that."
Vincent grabs her hand and squeezes it as he pulls her to the sofa. "Honey, you don't have to apologize to me. That fool did the cha cha over your heart. If he's as smart as everyone says he is, he's probably kicking himself but too proud to admit it. Anytime you need to cry, my shoulder is right here."
Much as Carly is tempted to break down and cry all over Vincent, she holds herself back. She doesn't have the luxury to cry now, not when her neck is on the line. Drawing in a shaky breath, she smiles weakly. "Actually, I have an even bigger favor to ask." She bites her lip nervously, unsure how to explain without making herself sound completely pathetic. How does one ask a business ally to defend your sanity in court?
Vincent covers his mouth in sudden understanding. "Oh I didn't even think! He's left you high and dry, hasn't he? What an absolute wretch he is!" He pulls a checkbook out of his breast pocket. "How much do you need?"
Carly laughs at the absurdity while stopping Vincent's hand from writing a check. "NO.. no, that's not it. I have plenty of money. Really! I need you to... to testify for me."
"Well sure!" Vincent's brow furrows as he tries connect the dots. "Don't tell me that low down weasel Quartermaine is trying to steal your kid again?!"
"No, he wouldn't dare," Carly assures. At least I don't think he'd dare. "It's... it's going to sound crazy. I don't even know how to explain this except to say that an old doctor of mine is trying to have me committed to a psychiatric hospital."
Vincent's chin practically hits the floor. "What?!"
Carly tightens her hold on Vincent's hand. "I'll tell you everything, but you have to promise you'll help me. Everything is at stake, Vincent. My whole life, Michael's whole life. And I need every bit of help I can get."
Out of class for the day, Emily made a beeline for General Hospital. Clearing the elevators, she approaches the ward clerk who is busy filing charts. "Hi Sarah, is it busy today?"
Sarah smiles warmly at Emily. In her opinion, Emily is the friendliest of the Quartermaines. None of the snobbery, temper tantrums or power plays of some of the other members of her family. "The usual. How are you surviving at the mansion? Your parents were in quite a tizzy while you were gone."
Emily rolls her eyes. "Eh, I'm used to them. It's a rare day they aren't in a tizzy about something. Listen, is my dad free?"
"He's in his office, interviewing a new doctor." Sarah closes a patient chart and files it in the slot for the appropriate room number. "But he should be done in about 15 minutes. Do you want to wait and I'll let him know you're here as soon as his interview ends?"
"Sure, that'd be great." Emily turns towards the waiting area, but spies Bobbie coming off the elevator. "Hi, Bobbie."
Bobbie's face lights up with a welcoming smile. Just the person she needed to see. "Emily! I'm glad you're here. Do you have a minute to talk?"
"Sure. My dad won't be free for a few." Emily follows Bobbie to the couches and sits down next to Bobbie. "Is this about Michael, by any chance?"
"Indirectly," Bobbie admits. "Before I tell you what's going on, I need to know where your loyalties are. I don't mean this as a criticism, but in the past, you've been adamantly opposed to Carly having custody of Michael. I know you and Carly have exchanged words on more than one occasion."
"I admit it. I hated Carly's guts."
"I can't say I blame you, given the information at the time."
Emily explains. "After Carly had Jason arrested, I thought she was the worst thing to happen to Michael. I did everything I could to try to trip her up, even picking a fight so she'd hit me in front of the social worker." She tips her head sheepishly. "Fortunately for Carly, it didn't work."
"I was hoping for a different answer." Bobbie can't hide her disappointment. "I suppose you'll be testifying against Carly then?"
"Testifying?" Emily's heart sinks. It was worse than she feared. "Don't tell me my family is trying to get Michael again."
"Worse, I'm afraid. They are in cahoots with Dr Evans and Helena to have Carly committed to a psych hospital. I think they believe it's the best way to get Michael for good. And they very well may be right." Bobbie studies Emily's shocked expression. It's obvious this is news to her. "You didn't know?"
"NO!" Emily's voice is sharp with her rising anger. After the partial conversation she overheard this morning, she has little doubt that her grandfather and mother are up to their ears in this. "Damn it. This is it. I'm so out of there!"
Bobbie puts a calming hand on Emily's clasped ones. "I'm sorry, Emily. I didn't mean to spring it on you like that. I figured you knew. Oh hell, scratch that. I should have figured they'd keep you in the dark."
"This is what they do, Bobbie. They lie and they cheat and they don't care who they hurt. I'm through with them! I'm not going sit idly by while they mess with Michael and Carly again."
It's Bobbie's turn to be surprised. "Are you saying you support Carly having custody of Michael?"
"Yes. Anything to keep him away from that house," Emily spits out. "I've seen how much Michael's improved since getting out of there. I'm not going to let them drag him back to that nut house." With a new sense of purpose, she leans forward. "Tell me how I can help."
Entering a wooded area across the street from General Hospital, Stefan looks around cautiously. He hears the telltale bird whistle and turns to follow the sound. He finds his man partial hidden from sight in the shrubbery. Glancing around to be sure he's not been seen, Stefan walks up to his man and keeps his voice low. "You said you followed her here?"
"Yes." The man leads him along a barely traceable path through dense foliage. A moment later they are standing in front of a door with an elaborate electronic locking system, complete with a sliding card slot and key pad for a password. "I'm not sure this will do us much good, Sir. I don't see a way we can get through it without being detected."
"Patience," Stefan murmurs softly as his hand traces the keypad. His mother was nothing if not predictable. He would crack this system like all her others. "It will take patience, but I will get past it." As if by magic, they hear a click from the other side of the door. Jumping back, they hide in the brushes, one on either side of the door. Stefan gives his man a signal just as the door opens.
A man in a black suit exits the door. Stefan steps out of the brush to reveal himself. "Hey!" The man immediately reaches into his coat, but before he can touch his gun, he feels the cold steel against the back of his skull. He's a dead man.
"Luck will work too." Stefan's smile is cruel and triumphant. "Hand over your keycard and passcode and you will be allowed to live, safe out of Helena's reach. Fight or try to fool me and the gentleman behind you will end your miserable life. Which will it be?"
A little nauseous and a lot more world weary, Emily plods up to the nurses station and flags down Sarah. "Turns out I can't stay after all, Sarah. Tell my dad I stopped by, but I had to go. I'll meet him at home later."
"You got it, Emily," Sarah says agreeably. "Hope to see you again soon. Take care of yourself."
Emily's smile is forced. "That's precisely what I'm going to do."
AJ opens the door to his new apartment and flicks on the light to the entryway. In the short time he's lived here, it's become more of a home to him than the mansion ever was. He may not be a great life by anyone else's standards, but to his own mind, he had a lot to be grateful for. He is still sober, even after weathering one of the most difficult times of his life. He has a life he can call his own, away from the Quartermaine dysfunction. And best of all, he has weekly visitation with Michael. Sunday mornings are the highlight of his life, even if it means spending it with Luke watching every mood he make. It's worth every glower and caustic remark.
Dropping his keys on the kitchen counter, AJ walks down the hallway into the still dark living room and switches on the table lamp next to the couch. At the sight of the man dressed in black lounging on his couch with his feet up, AJ groans. "Man, I really have to get my locks changed."
Chapter 77
AJ scowls down at the man lying on his sofa. "I'm really getting tired of you showing up and making yourself at home. You do not live here."
Luke smiles charmingly at AJ as he pulls out a stogie and lights it. "Hiya, Junior. It's time for us to have another little chat. Seeing as we are pals and all."
AJ plops down in the chair next to the couch. "You don't have a gun on you this time, do you? I'm really not in the mood for Russian Roulette tonight."
"I guess it depends on whether you have a Friday morning appointment at the courthouse or not," Luke drawls, taking a puff and blowing out a ring of smoke. "You got plans to stick Carly in the back?"
"What are you babbling about, Luke?" AJ swats impatiently at the stinking smoke floating towards his face. "In spite of the fact that I am forced to spend quality time with you every Sunday morning, I'm pretty satisfied with the arrangement I have with Carly right now. I'm not looking to screw that up."
"You're sure now?" Luke asks, only half serious. His bullshit detector is in fine health and he's not getting any vibes off of AJ. " No clandestine meetings with Dr Evans? No late night phone calls from the old man, whispering how you can get custody of Michael if you just tell the court how nuts Michael's mother is? I don't want to have to kill ya now that we've become Sunday pals. But I will if you've sold my niece down the river."
"NO!" AJ snaps. "Damn it, Luke. This is paranoid even for you."
"It ain't paranoid, Junior," Luke retorts. "It's a fact. Psycho Granny Cassadine, Dr Evans from Ferncliffe, and the old coot have served Sweet Caroline with papers to commit her. Now I know she has a few screws loose, but that doesn't mean she deserves to be locked up or lose her kid. She's damn good with that rugrat of yours, even you have to admit that."
AJ throws an arm over his eyes and whimpers. "This is not happening, right? You're not really here. This is just a vivid hallucination I'm having. As soon as I open my eyes, you'll be gone, and everything will go back the way it was."
"Afraid not, Junior." Luke pulls out another stogie and lights it, offering it to AJ. "Here, this won't make you feel better, but you'll be so busy coughing your lungs out, you won't care. I'd suggest a bourbon, but Carly would skin us both."
"Hell, at this point, even bourbon would taste good and I'd be sunk for sure." AJ takes the stogie grudgingly. Pulling in a quick puff, AJ immediately starts hacking and his eyes water. "Damn, you weren't kidding!"
"Nope. I never ever joke about my stogies," Luke crosses his feet on AJ's coffee table. "Time for you to decide who's side you're on, Kid."
As soon as AJ loses the urge to cough up his lung AND his stomach along with it, he answers. "What time is the court hearing?"
"Friday, 9am sharp."
"Tell Carly I'll be there."
"Can I tell her which side to expect you on?"
"Hers," AJ says without hesitation. "Not only to protect the deal I have with her, but because it's the right thing to do for Michael. It's not every day I get a chance to truly make amends for screwing up."
.
Before she can knock, the penthouse door swings open. Emily, relieved to see Jason, finds her eyes filling with tears. She buries her face in his leather jacket.
Jason wraps his arms protectively around his little sister. "What happened?"
"They're doing it again!" She cries into his jacket. "They never learn. I hate them. Why did my mom have to die and leave me with a bunch of psychos?"
Jason holds her tightly and leads her back into the penthouse to the sofa. "Tell me what the Quartermaines did."
Emily pulls away to swipe at her tears angrily. She plops down on his couch. "You mean you don't know?"
"I steer clear of the Quartermaines whenever I can," Jason answers matter-of-factly. "Are they giving Nik Cassadine trouble?"
"No, they're too busy trying to steal Michael to care about my life!" Emily swipes at more tears as they fall. "They're trying to have Carly committed again. I just came from talking to Bobbie at the hospital. They have Carly's old doctor leading the charge."
"Evans." Jason swears under his breath. Being locked up in jail was bad enough, but it didn't compare to the hell Carly survived at Ferncliffe. He wouldn't have lasted a week there himself. "I should have taken care of that sadistic windbag when I had the chance."
"It's too late for that now. The court date is the day after tomorrow. Nik's grandmother is in on it too." Emily grabs Jason's hand and squeezes it tightly. "You'll help Michael and Carly, won't you? I know you have every reason to hate her, but if she's committed they'll take Michael away from her and he'll end up in that mansion again! Please Jason."
Jason's heart clenches painfully. There are very few things powerful enough to pierce his armor, but his little sister in tears and Michael in danger are the top two on the list. He reaches out and strokes his sister's hair soothingly. "Yeah, I'll help Carly if she wants. I'll give her a call later. I won't let them lock her up again."
Emily sags with relief. "Thank you, Jason. I just have one more favor to ask."
Lucas slams into the Brownstone at top speed. "Hi Mom, I'm home!" Dropping his bookbag, jacket and muddy shoes in the middle of the entryway, he starts up the stairs to his bedroom.
"I'm in here, Lucas," Bobbie calls from the kitchen. "Don't forget to hang up your bookbag."
Lucas sighs and heads down the steps again to hang his bag on the hook. "Yeah Mom."
Just as he's halfway up the steps again, Bobbie calls out again. "And don't leave your jacket on the floor either."
Lucas rolls his eyes and plods back down the stairs, grumbling all the way. "Okay, Okay."
"And for heaven's sake, put your shoes away. I don't want to be tripping over them later. I'll break my neck."
Lucas lets out a groan of frustration. "What?! Do you have X-ray vision or something?"
Bobbie peeks out of the kitchen to grin at him. "Nope, I just know you. Come in here, I want you to taste this."
Bobbie holds out a steaming tablespoon for Lucas, cupping her hand under it to catch drips. Lucas sips gingerly and makes a humming sound as he swallows it. "It needs more salt."
"Okay." Bobbie grabs the pepper grinder and starts adding more pepper. Lucas may say it needs more salt, but she knows from experience that pepper is the key to tasty pea soup. "How as school today?"
"Fine." Lucas ambles over to the kitchen table and spies a piece a paper, a printed out email. He scans it. "Hey, who's this Prometheus Guy?"
"Oh, it's just some research I'm doing for Carly." Bobbie stirs the soup and puts the top on to simmer a bit longer. "Dinner will be ready in about a half hour. Better get your computer time in while you can, because it's homework homework homework after dinner."
"Prometheus**..." Lucas frowns with concentration. "Isn't that some Greek God or something?"
Bobbie barely stops herself from swearing. "I should have known. Of course he's the one who sent it. It's just his style."
"Who?"
"Well I can tell you the long boring story which will take...." Bobbie looks at her watch. "All your computer time. Or you can high-tail it upstairs and still have time for a couple innings of Backyard Baseball. What's it going to be?"
"Going, going......." Lucas sprints out of the kitchen and races up the steps. "GONE."
"NO RUNNING, Young man!" Bobbie calls after him. Her chuckle is cut off by the phone ringing. "Hello?"
"Hello there, Baby Sister." Luke's voice is upbeat. "Guess what?"
"It turned out to be a bank account number?"
"Yep." Luke snaps his laptop shut, his job done for now. "A mere half hour of creative hacking by me, and I've got most of the goods, including who paid off the judge. You'll never guess who."
"Edward," Bobbie guesses.
"Close, but no cigar." At the mention of the word, Luke opens his desk drawer and pulls a cigar from his stash. " Evans. Since it was a direct money transfer I was able to track it back even further. Guess who gave the money to Evans?"
"Helena."
"Bingo! You win the prize, Baby Doll." Luke leans back in his chair and lights the cigar. "By the way, I had a friendly chat with AJ this afternoon, he'll back your prodigal child on Friday."
"That's great news. Emily Quartermaine's on board too." Bobbie runs her finger over the name, Prometheus, coming to a sudden decision. "No luck on tracing the email address?"
"Nah, no luck there." Luke rocks back in his chair and puffs on his cigar. "Whoever sent that email covered their tracks. They didn't want to be traced. Probably some courthouse grunt who doesn't want to lose their job."
"I guess we'll never know who sent it."
Stefan stumbles into Wyndemere and heads straight for the conservatory without pausing to remove his coat and hang it up. With shaking hands, he unstops the decanter of vodka and splashes a generous amount into a glass, some spilling over the side in his carelessness. He quickly downs half the glass of vodka, grateful for the sense of reality that comes from the burning sensation coursing down his throat. With luck, the alcohol will steady him long enough to do what has to be done. To set into motion the chain of events that would finish the job he couldn't bring himself to finish.
Downing the rest of the vodka in his glass, Stefan looks down at the heavily weighted cut crystal glass, his hands tightening until his knuckles are white. "Damn you, Mother."
His voice rises suddenly to a roar. "Damn you to hell!" With the force of his rage, he smashes the glass against the fireplace hearth against the far wall, spraying millions of tiny pieces throughout the room.
Seething, Stefan tightens his fists at his sides to keep from tearing the room apart. Not now, not yet. He had work to do first. He crosses the room to his laptop, starts it up, and after a brief wait and begins working quickly. The sooner this was over, the better for everyone.
Walking through the living room, Carly picks up toys as she talks on the phone. "I can't believe they are all going to come through for me and I might actually have a chance to beat this."
"You will beat this, Carly," Bobbie answers firmly. "Luke's even got proof the judge is on the take. You have nothing to be afraid of."
"I wish I had your confidence," Carly answers wistfully, tossing the plastic trucks and cars into the basket in the corner. "I feel better than I did yesterday, but every once in a while, when I least expect it, it hits me in a wave. They might lock me up... and if Evans gets ahold of me..." Her voice quivers.
"The sadist will have to kill me first before I'll let him touch you again," Bobbie answers with all the vehemence of a mama bear. "And If for some strange reason court decision doesn't go your way, Luke planned a splashy escape worthy of a Spencer. Even if they win the court order, you won't be going there. Believe that."
"Thank you...." Carly fights back tears. "I don't know what I'd do if I had to face this alone..."
"But you don't," Bobbie cuts her off. "Don't even think of it, Carly."
"You and Luke have really come through for me. I guess this is what it's like to be part of a real family."
"We might not be normal, but we stick by each other." Bobbie checks the time. "You should get some rest. You've probably been pushing yourself all day."
Carly and Bobbie say their goodbyes and hang up. With both hands now free, Carly grabs the rumbled Afghan and folds it neatly over the back of the couch. Satisfied that the room is straightened, Carly heads upstairs to the nursery. Using only the glow of the nightlight to guide her, she walks over to Michael's crib. She smiles sadly at the sight of him laying on his stomach, his arms folded under his head. She brushes a light finger along Michael's cheek and feels the tears rise in her eyes. He looked so innocent and trusting. So vulnerable. If things didn't go as planned, this would be one of her last nights with him.
Michael stirs, kicking his legs out then curling them up again. Carly steps back, not wanting to wake him. She retreats to the rocker, rocks herself gently and lets her son's soft rhythmic breathing lull her into sleep.
"Caroline Spencer, it is with pleasure that I inform you that you are free to go." With a crack of the gavel, the solemn judge breaks into a smile. "Court is adjourned." Carly leaps to her feet and embraces Margo first, then Bobbie, then Luke. Vincent, Emily, AJ and Jason crowd around to give her their congratulations.
Behind them, Leticia strolls up with Michael in her arms, smiling at Carly shyly. "I know you asked me not to bring him, but he was asking for his Mama."
Carly swipes away the happy tears and reaches her hands to take him from Leticia. "Come here, you big beautiful boy. Mama wants a hug from her favorite young man." Her heart bursting, Carly crushes Michael to him. Her redheaded son gives her a loud smacking kiss on the cheek which causes Carly to laugh and cry harder. "Oh, you are too precious!"
Then Carly hears the voice she's longed to hear most of all. "Caroline."
Carly turns around to face Stefan, who is standing before her, more handsome than any man has a right to be. Smiling at her broadly, his arms outstretched, he beckons her. Without a second thought, Carly hands Michael back to Leticia and runs into his arms. He folds her close to him, warming her, making her feel safe and protected. Tears course down her cheeks. "You came, I can't believe you came."
He crushes her against him. "I didn't want to send you away. I love you, Caroline." Releasing her suddenly, Stefan grabs her by the face and kisses her reverently at first, and then with a burning passion, consuming her. "I love you," He murmurs again against her lips. "I will never let you go again." She is completely lost in the feeling of him kissing her. The next thing she realizes, Stefan is laying her back against the bed. With her heart full of love, Carly tugs on the lapels of Stefan's suitcoat to drag him on top of her. Together again at last, they make love.
** In Greek religion, one of the Titans and a god of fire. He was a master craftsman and a supreme trickster, and he was sometimes associated with the creation of humans. According to legend, Prometheus stole fire from the gods and gave it to humans. In vengeance, Zeus created Pandora, who married Prometheus's brother and set loose all the evils of the world. Another tale held that Zeus had Prometheus chained to a mountain and sent an eagle to devour his liver, which regenerated every night so that he could suffer the same torment the next day.
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