So far the boy's mind was clear. "I can't," answered Blueskin. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree. " "Will you do it?" persisted Blueskin. He looked across at Annabel, and he groaned. But we get over it.
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