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November 4, 2001
The day she left, she drove her beat up Nova down the main street in town. A few people waved to her and she waved back, a big, silly grin on her face. Her suitcase, filled with books and clothes, was hidden in the trunk, so no one realized they were waving at her for the last time. When asked, people will say they last seen her 'Carefree and happy, windows rolled down, hair streaming out behind her, and the radio playing a little too loudly for early Monday morning.' No one will mention the bruises, or the black eye.