Together we went into the kitchen.Hot coffee in hand and donuts on our plates we sat at the kitchen table. I was a taller version of my mom. Okay, not...an exact replica, mind you, but you could tell we were related. Our main difference was that she had short dark-brown hair and a caramel tone to her skin that I always envied. Our voices sounded eerily similar and we were both opinionated women. I know she had raised me that way."I'm sorry honey. Rebecca told me what happened last night," she. At last, she had said to herself, and had believed it this time, the worst is truly over. Who, she had wondered, could she call to help her get free? Miu certainly would come, and would comfort her and would not judge, but it was always Miu who rescued her, and she did not wish to be a burden again. Miss Alt had keys, Miss Alt would almost certainly - she would, wouldn’t she? - assist her, but even in this extremis summoning the nerve to ask such a favour of Miss Alt was beyond her. It. More

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