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       Chapter 99: The Girl Who Loved Horses

      

       Chapter 100: The Clock, the Watch, and the Ovens

      

       Chapter 101: Devious and Numerous

      

       Chapter 102: The Wicked Witch Lets Her Hair Down

      

       Chapter 103: Valiant Girls Do Not Go Mad

      

       Chapter 104: Boozer, Baker, Starmaker

      

       Chapter 105: The Passenger

      

       Chapter 106: A Father’s Intuition

      

       Chapter 107: By the Skin of Their Teeth

      

       Chapter 108: The Enduring Chill

      

       Part 8: Bibi to Bell

      

       Chapter 109: The Eight-Fingered Waitress and the Possibility of Death

      

       Chapter 110: The Girl in Need of Discipline

      

       Chapter 111: Like a Message in a Bottle

      

       Chapter 112: Teacher of the Year Award

      

       Chapter 113: What Words Cannot Describe

      

       Chapter 114: The Awful Woman and the Terrible Blow

      

       Chapter 115: Toba’s Life of Fact and Fiction

      

       Chapter 116: Reality and the Realtor

      

       Chapter 117: The Tides of Night

      

       Chapter 118: He Can Fix Anything. Almost.

      

       Chapter 119: The Man Who Didn’t Belong There

      

       Chapter 120: The Hard Way

      

       Chapter 121: The Captain Regrets

      

       Chapter 122: Bibi on the Brink

      

       Chapter 123: A Moment in Her Life With Books

      

       Chapter 124: The Captain and His Albatross

      

       Chapter 125: In a World of Her Own Making

      

       Chapter 126: The Dangerous Art

      

       Chapter 127: Bibi to Bell

      

       Chapter 128: God Bless You, Erich Segal

      

       Chapter 129: Where She Goes From Here

      

       Chapter 130: She Hears the Song in the Egg of the Bird

       Read on for an extract of The Silent Corner

       Keep Reading …

      

       About the Author

      

       By Dean Koontz

      

       About the Publisher

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       The Girl Whose Mind Was Always Spinning

      THE YEAR THAT BIBI BLAIR TURNED TEN, WHICH was twelve years before Death came calling on her, the sky was a grim vault of sorrow nearly every day from January through mid-March, and the angels cried down flood after flood upon Southern California. That was how she described it in her diary: a sorrowing sky, the days and nights washed by the grief of angels, though she didn’t speculate on the cause of their celestial distress.

      Even then, she was writing short stories in addition to keeping a diary. That rainy winter, her simple narratives were all about a dog named Jasper whose cruel master had abandoned him on a storm-swept beach south of San Francisco. In each of those little fictions, Jasper, a gray-and-black mongrel, found a new home. But at the end of every tale, his haven proved impermanent for one reason or another. Determined to keep his spirits high, good Jasper traveled southward, hundreds of miles, in search of his forever home.

      Bibi

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