They had turned into the street, on the opposite side of which were the flats where Anna lived. “Are these ordinary sapphires?” she said. “Mary!” He whispered loudly. She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. The house was full of aunts, uncles, and cousins meandering about, stuffed until their seams and zippers were bursting.
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