Cooking my dinner like a good little bitch, he said. It was true, I was stooped over the stove. My mother certainly never cooked and Ian had a tendenc... to get violent if he didnt have a meal on the table after work. I said nothing, it was usually best to unless he actually asked a direct question. What is it? he asked, stepping closer. The kitchen was far from large and most of the space was taken up by a small dining table so a little closer meant he was almost breathing down my neck Stew, I. " He hesitated. "You and yoursister Jeanne, your whole family, and your community have helped thesick devotedly. That is very worthy of you all." Thank you, Father." I reasoned that was as much of a concession that Iwas likely to get. "Now, I must take my leave of you. I've been heremost of today and I'm very tired." I gave him a small curtsy and wentout into the dusk.I felt slightly irritated by his words. I shook my head and sighed. Ourreligious differences and mutual suspicions made for a. More

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