Breaking Free

Summer Rain · Mar 9, 2013

General
Name: Jasmine Hiyara
Aliases: Mina to her close friends.
Age: 21
Birthdate: July 18th
Origin: Oman (border of Saudi Arabia/UAE/Yemen)
Ethnicity: Omani Arab
Languages: Arabic, English
Occupation: Housekeeper
Current Residence: The hotel she currently works at

Appearance
Eyes: Brown/green
Hair: Dark brown
Height: 5'4"
Build: Curvy; full hips and bust
Scars: None
Attire: She is always wearing long pants and shirt, as well as niqab (covering the face, hair and cheeks)
Accessories: Just a headscarf
Weapon of Choice: None

Personality:
Basic: Very quiet but caring, sweet and loving. She is often shy when you first meet her, and enjoys keeping her emotions and thoughts hidden. However, Yasmine enjoys laughing and talking with others.
Strengths: Helping others, talking to most people, very compassionate and patient.
Weaknesses: Men. She's really not keen on men, especially the dominant and rude type.
Fears: Being sent back to her home country, being forced to marry she does not like, failing in America and living her life alone.
Likes: Reading, painting, going to unique restaurants, talking with her co-workers and gardening.
Dislikes: Again, men. People who are unkind and arrogant. Those who judge her based on her appearance.
Religion: Muslim/Undecided.

Background
Family: Yasmine has two biological sisters; four half-brothers and two half-sisters. Her extended family is very large, with many aunts/uncles and an unnumbered amount of cousins.
Mother: Priya Hiyara (biological); Nabila Hiyara and Sabah Hiyra (step-mothers)
Father: Mohammed Hiyara
Upbringing:

Yasmine was brought up in a small home, surrounded by many members of her close and extended family. They lived often in despair and suffering, and fighting was constant among her siblings. Yasmine's mother was the third and final wife of her father, and she is the youngest of her two biological sisters. She disliked her life very much, and wished that she had the opportunity to go to school like her brothers. However, they lived far from the urban centres, and Yasmine was forced to stay home and work as a seamstress. From the age of ten she was taught how to sew properly and hem garments.
When the young woman was betrothed to a man with already one wife and several children, however, Yasmine stole some money from her father and travelled to America. Here, she has claimed refuge status and now is working at a hotel in the city.

TorTracyn · Mar 9, 2013

[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
 [FONT=&quot]General[/FONT][FONT=&quot]
Name: Tighearnan Flaithri O'Connor
Aliases: Tig, sir, boss
Age: 31
Birthdate: January 22
Origin: Saint Louis, MO
Ethnicity: Irish, a little bit of German, mostly Irish.
Languages: Irish Gaelic, English
Occupation: Mob boss, also owns a brewery that started during prohibition.
Current Residence: In a very nice house outside of the city, on a nice piece of countryside overlooking the ocean

Appearance
Eyes: Green
Hair: Red
Height: 5'11
Build: He takes good care of himself. He has muscles, looks like he can hold his own in a fight
Scars: He has a few, one from a bullet in his chest, another knife scar on his chest, some on his forearms, his knuckles are really messed up, nothing but scars that occasionally open back up. When he's on business, he'll wear gloves or just make sure to make eye contact so no one has the chance to see his knuckles.
Attire: If he's out on business or even just going around town, he's always seen in a very nice, very expensive, perfectly tailored suit and a fedora that matches. He does actually have a fedora to match every suit he owns.[/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]When not on business, he's in rather casual clothes and tends to look like he's just come out of the 1920s.
Accessories: A really nice watch and his fedora, as well as very expensive cufflinks. And a rosary he always wears around his neck that belonged to his great grandfather. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot]
Weapon of Choice: His fists, honestly. He'd much rather get in a fist fight with someone than use a gun. That's what his goons are for. He likes his guns.

Personality:
Basic: While Tig grew up rather well off, being the son of a mob boss and all, he still grew up knowing the importance of a hard day's work. His father made him work his way up through the ranks of the mob until he reached the position of underboss. When his father retired, he moved up to take over. Aside from all that, though, he's either a happy drunk or a mopey one. When he's sober, he's as care-free of a man as he can possibly be. He usually puts his businesses before himself and seems a bit weighted down usually, not as happy and care-free as his great-grandfather who he's named after. But he can be. It's under all that stress and weight somewhere.
Strengths: Hard worker, loyal, very good at working on cars, very good at running his businesses
Weaknesses: Stressed. Very stressed. A bit of a workaholic. Tends to turn to the bottle when it gets to be too much.
Fears: Running the business into the ground, dying alone, seeing anyone in his family get hurt.
Likes: Hunting, smoking a pipe, sitting around with his family, working on cars, driving fast cars, any nice car, and women when he gets the time.
Dislikes: Stress, being in a position where he wants to fight someone but can't because he's representing his proper business, seeing a woman in any sort of distress, etc.
Religion: Irish Catholic

Background
Family:
Mother: Carrol Marie Flannery
Father: Murphy Sean O'Connor
Siblings: All sisters. Emily (29), Abbie (25), Lara (22), Nola (19)
Upbringing: Tighearnan was brought up in the mob that had been around since the late 1920s when his great grandfather's friends, Maybelle and Lathen, opened up a brewery during prohibition. His great grandfather got involved and eventually it turned into organized crime during the 1930s. He was brought up knowing a hard day's work, starting at the brewery and working his way up and up and up until he made it to the position he's at now, owning the brewery and the mob. [/FONT]

[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]He used to get in trouble when he was younger, fighting and running about and being a teenager and a 20-something year old, but eventually the importance of the business was drilled into him and he was forced to calm down. Not that he liked it...[/FONT]
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT]
[FONT=&quot]Now, he runs both businesses with an iron fist but a respect for family, considering all of his workers family. He's very protective of his sisters and his mother, even though his father is still around to check up on everyone. [/FONT][FONT=&quot][/FONT]

Mix a bit of this:

With some of this:

and that's Tig. ;) In his casual clothes.
[FONT=&quot] [/FONT][FONT=&quot][/FONT]

Summer Rain · Mar 9, 2013

Yasmine stared at herself in the mirror for a long moment, her green eyes boring in through the glass, searching for something... someone beyond the reflection. Since she had come to America several months ago, she felt as though she did not know the woman that looked back at her. Mina had been brought up to obey her family and to cherish her duties; and here she had gone, stolen money and run off. The young woman knew that it was in her best interest, she knew she would be hurt and unhappy married to Faisal, but she still felt lost in this country.
She readjusted her niqab across her nose and slowly walked to the lobby of the hotel. In St. Louis, she was certainly a rare sight, a woman in very concealing Muslim dress, covered from her hair to her toes. She was also the only maid dressed this way, and she knew that she had been lucky to land this job. But after being hidden for all these years, she couldn't bear to reveal herself to others. It seemed unnatural and wrong.

"Mina!" her boss, Mr. Moody, greeted her happily. The men treated her like a daughter, even offered her a room to stay in, taking a little bit off her cheque but not nearly as much as he should have.
Mina's eyes were smiling and she murmured, "good morning."
He handed her a list of all her rooms today; it was a holiday weekend, and they were booked completely. The list was long and Mina knew it would take awhile to get through each one. "You have the top floor suites, as well, where we have a few very important guests staying. Ensure you clean their's well."
The young woman nodded and smiled again before going to retrieve her cart.

TorTracyn · Mar 9, 2013

Tighearnan stepped out of his Deusenberg when the door was opened for him. He looked up at the hotel, chewing on the mouth piece of his pipe. He sighed and stepped side for his sister Emily to step out of the car. "You're going to behave, right? I have a very important business meeting here, Emily. If you interfere..."

"Lighten up, Tiggy." She said, bumping his hip with hers. "You really need to ease up on everything." She said seriously, looking at him. She smiled though and walked on into the hotel.

He sighed deeply. He knew his sister was right, even if she was a bit too much like her namesake. Like Tighearnan, Emily was named for a long-dead relative, rumored to be a hit-woman for numerous gangs that had since died out until joining with the one his great-grandfather started. Like the late Emily, the new Emily was a deadly shot with any gun put in her hand, and it was usually unexpected, coming from such a pretty girl.

Tighearnan walked on into the hotel as the valet got their bags. While it was a holiday weekend, he was in town strictly on business and would be staying for a week at the least. And he wasn't looking forward to it. He quietly longed to be as carefree as his sister, but there was too much riding on his every move. He clenched his fists, causing his knuckles to crack a little louder than he wanted them to.

As he walked through the lobby he stopped to look at himself in the mirror. He took his hat off his head since he was inside and tucked his pipe into his inside coat chest pocket. He reached up and ran a finger along his crooked nose and smirked a little, remembering the girl that broke it for him. Twice. Once to the right, once to the left. It had ended up pretty straight after that, but was crooked again from a different girl...well, her fiance to be precise...his early 20s had been fun as hell and he missed them sorely.

He smoothed down his suit and sighed, walking up to the counter behind his sister, letting her handle everything with the clerk. His eyes scanned the room now, always searching for potential threats or just people he knew. He saw Yasmin and raised an eyebrow, but did nothing more. He turned back to the counter and smiled, taking his room key. "Thank you." He said, slipping a tip across the counter. "My sister and I are going to grab lunch. Please make sure our bags are in our rooms but not unpacked." He took his sister's arm and walked across the lobby to the restaurant to enjoy a nice lunch after such a drive.

Summer Rain · Mar 9, 2013

"At least he's young!" one of the girls giggled as the three of the working housekeepers rode the elevator to their respective floors. Mr. Moody split them up specifically so that they wouldn't gossip about the guests, but the girls, especially the younger ones, always found time to do now. Now the two other others, Rachelle and Shannon, were conversing about who was a hotter guest - Mr. O'Connor, a wealthy business and apparent mobster, or Mr. Paulie, a lawyer with several children and a booming practice. Naturally, Mina did not comment; she rarely looked at men in a way that was anything more than businesslike and she intended to keep it that way. She certainly had no come to America in search of a new suitor.

The girls all wished each other a good day as they dropped off of their own floors, promising to sit for lunch together in the restaurant at noon. As silly as those girls were, Yasmine loved them dearly; sometimes she wished she had been brought in the same way, to enjoy live and not know any sort of oppression or pain. Rachelle had been married just a few months ago, despite still gabbing about the handsome guests, and was due to expect her first child in five months. At times, Mina envied her freedom and zest for life.

Slowly the young woman made it through her rounds, cleaning through the rooms that had been left behind for new guests. The nice thing about the wealthier guests is that they rarely made a mess of the place and often left a large tip. Of course, Mina still vacuumed thoroughly and stripped the bedding, but it was a nice load off considering some of the rooms she was used to cleaning up.

She hummed lightly to herself as she cleaned about the room, adjusting her niqab, which sometimes got caught in the bucket or vacuum. Sometimes the darn thing was a nuisance, but Mina wasn't about to become too Americanized. The garment also concealed her emotions, which she wasn't entirely comfortable with these days. She could control the look in her eyes, but her mouth usually said it all. She enjoyed the privacy, the wall between her and this unfamiliar world.

TorTracyn · Mar 9, 2013

Tighearnan did his best to quell the rumors that he was a mobster, taking a very philanthropic route in his daily dealings in the city. He gave money to orphanages, to the police force, to the fire fighters, to the homeless shelters, to bums on the street, even found some of them jobs at his brewery. He did what he could, pretty good at keeping secrets.

The two O'Connor siblings took their time with lunch and eventually Tighearnan found himself up at his room, looking at the maid cart outside. He sighed a little. He was hoping to be able to walk in and raid the mini bar but it looked like those plans had to be put off a bit. He stepped up to the door of the large suite and knocked before walking on inside. He took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack, riffling through his own pockets to take out his pipe and pouch of tobacco. "Don't mind me." He called calmly, not wanting to startle the maid who he knew was somewhere in his room.

He walked over to the window and looked out over the city, starting to pack his pipe, whether this was a smoking room or not.

Summer Rain · Mar 9, 2013

Mina collided with the guest as she retreated from the bathroom, after having restocked it with some luxuries bath gels and shampoos that the hotel offered to its finest. His pipe went flying into the arm as did little Mina, and she shrieked, startled by the collision. She blinked a few times, her bottom aching sorely, and she then realized that she had walked into a very important guest of the hotel's. His suite was at least a thousand dollars a night, a wonderful income for Mr. Moody and his establishment.
Mina could only pray that he would not complain - she had been behind on her cleaning, and thus had not gotten his room ready by check-in. And now...

The young lady suddenly scrambled to her feet, and Mr. O'Connor did as well. He stood a good half foot taller than her, and after shuffling her niqab so it covered her properly, she glanced at him sheepishly through her eyelashes.
"Oh! I am sorry, Mr. O'Connor," she mumbled, voice frantic and her blood rushing in nervousness, "I did not know you were checking in yet! Please... p-please, I will have room service send up a bottle of wine for your trouble..."

TorTracyn · Mar 9, 2013

Tighearnan hadn't expected her to actually run into him. He let out a string of surprised curses and none of them English. He got up and brushed himself off, looking at his pipe with a frown. He looked over at her, blinking. "Oh, it's you." He tilt his head a little. "Are you alright?" He reached out, putting a surprisingly gentle hand on her shoulder.

There was nothing but concern in his eyes. "Ach, I dinnae drink wine." He said, surprisingly enough with an Irish accent. At home, growing up, everyone just spoke Gaelic, so even though he was third-generation American, born and raised in the States, he managed to have an accent. Especially when around women...

"Stop worryin' about me. I'm fine. Had worse." He smiled at her and took his hand away from her shoulder. "Are ye alright though? Nothin' broken? Nothin' bleedin'?" His eyes traveled over her head covering, but mostly stayed on her eyes. She had such striking eyes...

Summer Rain · Mar 9, 2013

His accent was certainly interesting, and Mina found her cheeks turning crimson as his eyes surveyed her for a long moment. She imagined that he was probably taken aback but her unique headscarf, and her eyes cast downward as he spoke. She slowly brushed at her legs and knees, knowing that she was just as fine physically as he was. Now, her heart rate was beating rapidly against her chest, fearful that he would tell Mr. Moody what had occured. Mina had overheard that Mr. O'Connor was a kind man, contributing to many local charities, but that didn't make him automatically merciful. Sometimes the charity and money sent overseas was a cover for something more. Mina knew better than to trust others and make judgements, especially men...

"I am fine," she nodded, her own Arabic accent thick on her words. Her language was a little more difficult to understand, coming straight from Oman to the United Stated, but her words were audible.

"No wine?" Mina asked softly, eyes noticing the pipe in his hand. Guests were not allowed to smoke on the premises but Mina was certainly not going to gain his favour but telling him to put it away. "Is there anything more I can get you, then?" she asked softly, eyes finally looking upwards and at him again. She tried to look behind him more often than not, not enjoying his probing gaze, "some food, perhaps? I do hope you do not bring this up with Mr. Moody. He will not be pleased with me."

TorTracyn · Mar 9, 2013

Tighearnan waved a hand dismissively and turned to the window. "I dinnae know why ye t'ink I'd tell Mr. Moody that I got in yer way." He laughed softly and looked at her. "Do these windows open?" He asked, sticking his pipe back in his mouth to chew on it. It was a bad habit he had. He had ruined many good pipes that way and this one was heading in that direction. Also, it wasn't lit quiet yet, just nicely packed. As he breathed, some of the tobacco fluttered just slightly and a nice, almost sweet but minty smell (maybe some cherry?) wafted from the pipe. And him. He was quite saturated in the smell of his own pipe and that's the way he liked it.

"But aye, no wine." He gave her a smile and looked back out the window. "I know I'm nae allowed tae smoke in 'ere, but..." He gave her a sideways glance. "If yer tha one that's gonnae clean the room, I'll t'row in a bit extra fer yer troubles, aye?"

Summer Rain · Mar 9, 2013

Mina looked a little startled but nodded her head slightly, shuffling out of the room quickly. "No need, Mr... Mr. O'Connor. Just between us." And with that the young woman swooped out of the room, her skin sheened in sweat and her heart still racing. She wasn't entirely sure why she felt this way; perhaps it was just being alone in the room with that tall, broad-shouldered man, or maybe even the idea of losing her job just startled her. Whatever the reason, Mina was just happy to be out of there.

She took a few deep breaths outside of the room, shutting the door behind her. Once it seemed that her breathing and heart rate went back to normal, she gripped onto the maid's cart and moved onto the next room.
Now, Mina could only hope that by the time she returned tomorrow to do his room, that Mr. O'Connor would be gone. There was something offsetting about him, and Mina wasn't ready to face that just yet.

TorTracyn · Mar 9, 2013

He watched her leave and laughed softly, shaking his head. Once the door was shut, he started stripping out of his suit and down to his boxers. He hung his suit up in the closet and went over to start unpacking his bags. In the middle of all that, he looked up and saw the maid's vacuum cleaner in the corner. He raised an eyebrow and sighed softly. She was obviously new. He stood up and walked over to it, grabbing it and wheeling it over to the door. She'd realize she left it in a minute or two and come back for it.

He went back to the bedroom of the suite and finished unpacking his suits, then turned to look at himself in the mirror. He traced his scars and various Celtic-style tattoos. He flexed a bit, smirked, and shook his head, moving away from the mirror. He stretched, yawned, and walked over to a chair in the living area, flopping down into it. He looked at the tv, shook his head, and picked up a book he had brought with him. He put his feet up and started reading, still dressed in nothing but his boxers and the rosary that was draped around his neck. He glanced around for his pipe, realized it was in the bedroom, sighed, and slouched back down into the chair to go back to reading.

Summer Rain · Mar 9, 2013

Mina couldn't help but smile softly when she returned for the vacuum and found it outside of the room, waiting. She supposed that she had just been in a fluster to get out of that room that she had forgotten, but was thankful that she would not have to converse with that man again. Tomorrow, she would be sure to switch the room with one of the other girls. They would surely be glad to be cleaning out the handsome, tall's man suite, and probably elated if they managed to be in there when he was.

After her rounds were completely and Mina had signed off her name, claiming that she had finished her duties, she retreated to her suite on the main floor. It was small and modest but certainly enough for one young woman to be living in. She only had a small kitchenette, not even a stove or a full-sized fridge, but she was thankful that Mr. Moody was allowing her to stay her. She knew that her family would not have the means to track her, especially since she only claimed refuge status, and did not obtain American citizenship yet. Still, every day she lived in fear, and did not want to have to rent an apartment in her name.

The young woman slowly sat down on the bed, removing her little socks as she heated up some noddles in the microwave. She was exhausted, physically and mentally, but her mind could not help but return to thoughts of Mr. O'Connor. How absurd was that?! She did not enjoy thinking of the tall, burly man, and she closed her eyes, listening to the TV drone on and the microphone tick down.

TorTracyn · Mar 9, 2013

Tig was up early on Sunday morning in one of his nice suits, a plain black one with a dark green silk tie. His fedora was black with a dark green band around it. On his arm was his sister who was in a dark green dress herself, a nice modest one with a nice modest hat. She smiled up at her brother. "Is your driver picking us up?"

"Mimi, the church is just around the corner." He said, holding his hat in his hands and giving her a disproving look.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine..." She let go of her brother's arm and walked out of the hotel. She stopped just outside to dig a cigarette from her purse and put it to her lips, letting one of the valets light it for her.

He sighed and shook his head, going up to the front desk. He ordered lunch for himself and his sister and asked that it be brought to their rooms precisely at twelve when they would be getting back from morning mass.

Summer Rain · Mar 9, 2013

Luckily, Rachelle had been more than happy to take the top floor. She looked a little startled that Mina asked to trade, considering the tips were high and the work was low, but she certainly was not going to question the offer. As usual the girls talked idly before they went to their floors, restocking their carts at the beginning in the hall closet before beginning their usual work. Now that it was Sunday guests were beginning to check out, and Mina saw the remnants of families and couples. She smiled lightly, hoping that someday in the far future, she'd be able to enjoy vacations such as these. And there she would be happy and free to make decisions; who she married, where to live, how many children...
It all seemed to bright.

The young woman was on the main floor, cleaning out one of the meeting rooms, where a burly man in a crisp linen shirt and a pair of slacks called out to her.
"Go back to your country!" he yelled.
Mina looked up a little startled, and say that the man was rapidly approaching her. She backed up a bit, but her back hit the maid's cart.
He was much taller than her, and as he balled his hands into fits, the striking muscles of his biceps showed. "It's people like you that are my poisoning this country! Go back to your dirty husband and your filthy religion. We don't want you here! I won't come to this hotel if I know you are working it, probably stealing our money and goods!"

TorTracyn · Mar 9, 2013

The shout got Tighearnan's attention. He let out a low noise, almost a growl, as he quickly closed the distance between himself and the man, which was...really...the whole lobby and into a hall, but still. He felt his own pulse racing, his heart pounding in his chest. He clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking again as he did. Damn his profession.

He took a slow breath and tapped the man on the shoulder. He wanted so badly to punch him in the face, but it just...he couldn't do that now that he owned the brewery. "Excuse me, is dere a problem 'ere?" He asked in his nice Irish accent. His suit muted his muscles a bit, just making him look like a tall, broad shouldered but...just a normal businessman. Easily underestimateable. "Is dere a reason yer harassin' tha maids?"

Summer Rain · Mar 10, 2013

The man turned around slightly and smirked at his Irish counterpart, as though they were old friends. Mina took his moment of distraction to slip from between him and the cart, and retreat to the other side of it. The rude man soon trailed over to Mr. O'Connor, and once ago as they knew each other, slipped an arm his neck. Now looking at him, Mina guessed that he was probably a little intoxicated. Considering the bar on the main room, it wasn't rare to see men with too high a blood alcohol content to be wandering around, even in their business suits and fancy silk ties.

"Now," he grinned devilishly, looking at the young lady who now cowered before her maid's cart, "I'm sure that you can reason with me here, my fellow. This here is America, our land... the land of the Europeans, the place we found hundreds of years ago. So what's a Saudi doing in this place? It's no country for that damn scarves and your shitty religion."

TorTracyn · Mar 10, 2013

Tighearnan barely tolerated being touched by the man. "This is tha land o' opportunity." He said calmly. "Where men an' women come from all o'er tha world tae try an' make their own way. I'd assume she's come 'ere tae escape all tha shite goin' on in 'er home country. If ye'd deny 'er dat, what else would ye deny 'er?" He asked, trying to pull himself away in the most calm, collected manner he could muster.

Honestly, though, he was one wrong word or action away from punching the man in the stomach. "Haven't ye heard? In one o' yer hist'ry books?
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

He threw the man's arm off of him finally and stood straight, smoothing his suit once his little poem recital was done. He brushed off his shoulders as if the man had left some sort of slime or grime on them and looked over at the woman to make sure she was ok. When he decided that she was, at least physically, he looked back at the drunk man. "Do ye know what dat's from? That poem?"

Summer Rain · Mar 10, 2013

The man just huffed and crossed his arms, clearly a little taken aback by the little poetry display he had been given. And when with one last menacing look at the young maid he turned and strode out of the lobby, not another word. Mr. Moody had walked in a few moments ago and watched him, probably (good paying customer or not) that he would never return. Mr. Moody was fiercely protective of his employees, especially the sweet little Omani girl that had stolen his heart.

Mina's eyes met the man's and she surveyed him for a moment. That was certainly not what she had been expecting from him; she had even been expecting a brawl, judging by the tight fists of the other man as he listened to his sonnet.
"That is on the statue of liberty, no?" Mina asked timidly, meeting his eyes.

(Do you mean toning down the accent just a tad? It's really difficult for me to figure what he is saying. :P)

TorTracyn · Mar 10, 2013

(lol sorry)

He watched the man walk out, a little upset it hadn't turned into a brawl. He really needed one of those. Of course, probably not right before church. When he turned back to the woman, his face was soft, with a smile on it. "Aye. I was born here, actually." He said, looking down and straightening his tie. "But my parents and grandparents kept it as something special. My great-grandfather came over from Ireland when he was 12."

He looked at her and held out his hand, palm up. "Tighearnan O'Connor. If someone tries that again, you call for me, alright?" If she put her hand in his, he kissed the back of it. If she didn't, well, he just put his hand back to his side. "If you'll excuse me. My sister is waiting outside. I'm making us both late for Sunday Mass...."

Breaking Free

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