Can you forgive me Miguel? Please?"He looked at me closely, like he was trying to decide if I meant what I was saying. He nodded his head. "You're for...iven, Miss Oakley. Sarah. Your Mom is a very wise woman. She appreciates that immigrants are always walking a tightrope. Now, maybe you do too. It might be a good idea for both of us to confine our conversations to the job at hand. That way we can avoid misunderstandings." There was no anger in his voice but there was no compromise either.That. But what? Day 17 As the morning fog began to lift, I trudged towards the train. I wouldn't be working today, Sunday, if you hadn't completely wrecked my head yesterday. Thanks to you, another weekend goes by and no real time off. I plopped down in my seat and waited for the train to get going. As I looked around the empty car, taped to the partition dividing my seat from the outside door, I noticed an envelope. Hmm , I thought as I held the note to my nose. "This fragrance smells familiar." I. More

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