.. and we all worked for the same agency."I nodded, "But you were born and raised in England?"She looked away."Well, were you?"She stopped playing wit... her hair. "Yes, I was born in London." Why'd you leave?"She suddenly looked at me as if I were an idiot. "I got a job offer to be a model here."I waved my hand, dismissing her statement. "Yes, yes I know that, but I mean you're nineteen. You should be in college."She started tapping on my wooden kitchen table. "I got into Oxford," she said.So. What dowe do?" Who's Melanie," he asks, then shakes his head. "Never mind, doesn'tmatter. Greg was following orders; orders that didn't seem questionableinitially, but later... anyway, he's burned those bridges now." Heholds up his hand, and peers at a detailed map that appears on hisinterface square. "This way, fast as we can," he says, leading me out.My heels clack and echo in the lonely, stale smelling corridor as wehustle along. The doors all have odd circles of blotchy color. Somekind of. More

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