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"Ernie, what's a laundry truck doing here? The prison has its own laundry."
"What I was sayin' was if me and Al can do anythin' for you--- you know--- send you things or---"
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But Tracy knew there would be no cool time. Not with Big Bertha after her. The thought of what the giant bull-dyke had in mind for her made her physically ill.
"She's okay." Her tone was indifferent.
"I seen that little girl. She seems real sweet."
It was Saturday morning, seven days before Ernestine's release. Sue Ellen Brannigan had taken Amy into New Orleans for the weekend, and Tracy was at work in the prison kitchen.
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