Then there were his clothes. Black high tops he probably rolled a bum for, black jeans that sagged at the knees and ass, and a Grateful Dead T that ha... probably been his dad’s in the sixties. ‘Lee?’ I said finally. ‘Do you still have that thing for Rambo?’ My good mood lasted for an hour and fifty-three minutes. That’s how long it took me to make eight phone calls to Amy’s house before I remembered it was still a school day for most people and she’d be at work. Since I had that number too, I. For sixteen years, I had lived in a small village, where there were no servants. The people were quite simple, and helped one another during times of need. I was not accustomed to such a life. Our town was just as poor as it was simple. My father eventually found it hard to make a living in our area. Miss Eleanor, Master Elrick’s head Servant, had passed through our village one summer day. It seemed that by fate, she had taken notice to me. Very determinedly, she had offered to have money sent. More

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