"You can assume whatever you want," he answered with an ominous smile, biting the end off of his unfiltered cigarette just to spit it out on the table. "That doesn't make it right. But no, I wasn't affiliated with the Roswell incident, which occurred long before I was even born." So what is it your friend and I have to look forward to?" Josh asked, again not looking at the younger man. At this, the nameless man's smile positively lit up, though the malicious gleam in his eyes still simmered just below the surface."I can't speak for him, but you will never be heard from again," he answered in a low voice, speaking slowly so Josh had to wait for each word to slowly form, even as he imagined where the words were leading. "Your friends, your family, your associates will never hear from you again and your body will never be found. Any life insurance won't be paid since there's no proof of your death, and no one can claim it until seven years after they report you missing, but frankly,. , she would smile a certain smile, and if you guessed that she was thinking of her nights together with Josh in the woods, or in the pitch black gym on the wrestling mats, you would be right. Sam dropped M.J. off at her house, then drove a few houses down the street to her house. M.J. entered her house and saw her little sister Gwen sitting on the couch eating and watching TV. Her mother was washing dishes and cleaning up the kitchen. ‘How’d you do, M.J.?’ Gwen asked. ‘Pretty good,’ she said, ‘we won again, 3-1.’ ‘Didja score?’ ‘Yeah, peanut, 2 goals, one assist.’ ‘Yay!’ Gwen yelled, raising her little arms above her head. Her mother smiled. M.J. went to the kitchen and took the plate of cold chicken and frozen peas that her mother left for her, sat down at the table and ate it without much enthusiasm. M.J. generally considered food nothing more that fuel necessary to maintain her physical activity, probably because her mother was not a good cook. Dropping her plate into the sink,.
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