Lyndon MillerI replied to him immediately:Lyndon:Thank you for your email. Great to hear from you. I know nothing about Charles and can't find out fro... anyone. I haven't talked to him or received an email for months. We are worried sick and don't know what to do. I can't even go looking for him. Please give Pete my best wishes.CynthiaAfter that exchange, my adrenalin was going crazy. What could have happened to Charles that he didn't go on the mission? He went all the way there just for that. Henry smiled, reminiscing as he made the last adjustments to his bow-tie. It was then he heard the familiar words "Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for Henry the Hypnotist!" Time to go. Henry walked on stage, blowing kisses at the audience, everything about his body language thanking them for being there. He grabbed the mic and began making his usual introduction, explaining what hypnosis was, and how you can't do anything you wouldn't normally do, all the usual things to make. He’d get it sorted.“Of course.” Linda nodded. “No water, thank you.”“Very well.” Molly looked from Linda to the kind eyes of her husband. “Also, you have another parishioner here. She’s in the waiting room.”“Tell her to sit tight.” Pastor Neilson dropped his hands out of the steeple and reached into a drawer in his desk. “We won’t be long. I know how to help Mrs. Riles.”“Yes, dear.” Molly turned, exited the office, and gently closed the door behind her.“Temptation is easily put aside ... when. Going up the stairs, I passed Holtzclaw, Johnstone, and Lawton before reaching a windowed door at the end of the hall, and Kingsley, Ingraham, and Gladstell completed the third floor. There were no stairs going up any further. I tried the windowed door just in case it was for a stairway or something, but it was locked; besides, it was apparently an office or something, judging by the desk and shelving I could barely make out in the dark through the tiny gaps in the blinds.Shit. Really, no.
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