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Devlins StoryChapter 4A
They were going to be late for the party. Danny fretted through the traffic on I-39, but some sort of accident up ahead had left only one lane open. While Danny kept drumming the steering wheel, Devlin kept running her hand down her leg. It was hot in the car, the early evening sun made it seem like being inside an oven and she could feel the sweat trickling down her back. She hoped it didn't stain the dress. It seemed like the whole afternoon things had been just a few minutes late....