She smiled when she found the notch on my nose, probably remembering that I had gotten it defending her honor against the onslaught of a particularly ...ggressive suitor. Her fingers found my lips and I playfully bit at her. ‘Quit it. I’m reading!’ she smiled. When she reached the scars on the left side of my face, the smile disappeared and she breathed in sharply. ‘Pigl…’ ‘Shut up! I’m not done,’ She breathed. She finished her scan of my face and moved down my neck, her fingers delicate and. The fight would have been over before it started.Sandrine was on her weekly visit to Mass at the nearest Catholic church, the one she knew remained open until late on Wednesday nights. She kept her Catholicism quiet. She’d been baptized in the Church on Martinique as an infant and had received some instruction from the priests and from her owner. Her faith had been shattered by the loss of her baby and whatever churchgoing survived her loss of faith had lapsed when she was taken from Martinique. More

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