Forcing herself to keep walking to the end of the hall, Charlene dug a pen and small notebook from her purse. Although this run down, abandoned building housed runaways from all different places throughout the state of Virginia, no one had ever been murdered here. Standing in front of the last door, she tried to clear the images of her past living here because she knew this article had to be written from a business aspect like any other assignment. She raised her small fist to knock, but it never connected to the door, because memories of Brett’s fist swam to the surface of her mind. Her marriage to Brett was doomed from the start because she’d married a man exactly her father, a father that had caused her to find shelter in this very place, Home To The Lost.
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