Apitcote Book 2 - The Conjurer

By Peggy P Parsons

"I look different," Juhree gasped. "You are different." Monteith smiled at her reflection in the mirror. "No. I mean, look at me. I really look different." "You look like the woman I love." "My freckles are gone," she blurted. "And you didn't notice until now?" "No. When did it happen?" "They started fading the day you arrived and were gone before you started working in the first constat." "I had them all my life. I didn't think they would ever go away." He touched her cheek, his fingers gentle. "My homeland's environment was responsible."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wings ePress, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9781613094426

Book preview

Apitcote

The Conjurer – Book Two

Peggy P. Parsons

A Wings ePress, Inc.

Romantic Fantasy

Edited by: Jeanne Smith

Copy Edited by: Joan C. Powell

Executive Editor: Jeanne Smith

Cover Artist: Trisha FitzGerald-Jung

All rights reserved

NAMES, CHARACTERS AND incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Wings ePress Books

www.wingsepress.com

Copyright © 2021 by: Peggy P. Parsons

ISBN-13: 978-1-61309-442-6

Wings ePress Inc.

3000 N. Rock Road

Newton, KS 67114

Dedication

To my critique partners, Sandra, Nancy, Joan, Barbara, Sandy. Thank you for our once weekly sessions. They were invaluable and continue to inspire me.

Apitcote

Where the ‘t’ is silent

Life is non-violent

Remarkable place to dwell

Humans trend well

Work. Relax. Sit for a spell

Wonder. Ponder.

Fly. Sigh. Tie. Cry.

Mend tears. Share woes

Reach highs. Shed lows

Laugh. Play. Enjoy each day

In Paradise

Beneath the veil

—Peggy P. Parsons

One

Even before she was fully awake, she knew she had two sets of memories. Given a choice to choose one, she would pick Jilly’s, but she also wanted Juhree’s special gifts, talents, magic.

Their pasts were polar opposites. Jilly came from a place she called ‘below’ and had enjoyed a happy childhood with doting parents. Juhree had grown up with a very controlling mother and a father who never disagreed with his wife.

Raising her hand to touch her aching head, she discovered she was attached to an IV.

I can’t see, Jilly mumbled. Where am I?

"In a hospital." Juhree silently replied.

Why?

We were in a car accident.

Oh, yeah. I remember. This is awful. I can’t feel anything.

Try to relax, Juhree suggested.

I can’t. Monteith doesn’t know about the accident. Neither do my parents. They live too far away where Surface telephones don’t reach.

We’ll find a way to contact the people you love.

I need my afone to call or atext Monteith, Jilly persisted. No one else knows how to contact him. Except Bede. But he’s mad at me. Monteith’s upset, too. Will he think the accident is an attempt to solicit pity?

Having no answers, Juhree drew in a slow breath. How could she have dual memories? Was she Jilly Mackey? Or Juhree Perl?

The Jilly part wanted to yank the IV from her arm and dash outside where she could breathe fresh air. Not only had she never been in a hospital or required medical attention on the Surface, she had never needed a medic at home down under.

The Juhree part knew from previous experience that if she didn’t wait for a nurse to remove the IV, she would regret it. Just getting off the bed without assistance could strain the needle, tighten tubes and create stinging pain.

I can’t move, Jilly moaned. What’s wrong with me?

I don’t know, Juhree sympathized. I feel fine. This truly was weird. Did she have Juhree’s freckles and kinky red curls? Or Jilly’s silky blonde hair and perfect complexion?

Thinking a mirror would determine whether she was ‘Jilly the Impetuous’ or ‘Juhree the Reticent,’ she opened her eyes. A mirror wasn’t necessary. Her mother, Juhree’s mother, sat in an easy chair thumbing through a fashion magazine. Like everyone allowed inside hospitals these days, she wore a surgical mask, but her eye make-up was perfectly applied.

To test her mood, she said, Hello, Mama.

Don’t call me that, Helen Sue Marie snapped. You know I prefer to be called mother.

Right. She knew all her mother’s preferences. She had ‘read’ them all her life. Sadness crept through her, but not with the same deep hurt she had lived with for so many years. Her mother cared more about appearances than she cared about her only daughter. Although the knowledge had hurt while growing up, she no longer expected sympathy.

It’s about time you woke up.

No ‘how do you feel, dear?’ or ‘I’m glad you’re awake’—Just a nonsensical statement. She shouldn’t be critical. Unconstructive criticism wouldn’t change anything, but it would reduce her to the low level she had existed in before she left her parents’ luxurious mansion three years earlier.

She glanced at the IV. Empty. When she sucked in a deep breath, every muscle in her body rebelled. Ignoring the pain, she asked, Do you know how Jilly is, Mother?

No. My concern is for you. I only saw Jilly a few times. Never talked to her.

Juhree bit back the words, because you didn’t want to. Is Dad here?

No. The doctor said your condition isn’t critical, so he went to work this morning. He has a new trial to preside over. I’ll text and let him know you’re awake.

How long was I out?

Two days and three nights.

A little surprised, Juhree fumbled around until she found the familiar hospital device and punched the button to summon a nurse.

Hi, sweetie, the masked nurse drawled as she breezed into the room. I’m glad you woke up before I go off shift. We can get rid of the IV and let you eat. How does that sound?

Good. Could you take the catheter out first?

Sure. The nurse glanced at Helen as she stood, an expression of distaste in her eyes.

I’ll go get a cup of coffee. Helen hurried from the room.

Your mother doesn’t look happy. I expected her to be ecstatic now that you’re awake.

Mother doesn’t know how to be happy. Grandma calls her our resident sour-puss.

The nurse laughed. Nice to have someone in your family with a sense of humor, right?

Yeah. Worried about Jilly, she blurted, I was in a car accident with Jilly Mackey. Can you tell me how she is?

A frown wrinkled the nurse’s forehead. I thought your mother might have told you.

What?

You were the only survivor of the three-car crash.

Tears filled Juhree’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She couldn’t stop them. Couldn’t even slow them when Grandma Dee came scurrying into the room.

The nurse extended a box of tissues. I’ll go get you something to eat. Hope you like jell-o. Do you?

She nodded, sniffed, wiped her cheeks.

Thank goodness you’re finally awake. Her grandmother’s mask muffled her voice. Your father and I have been so worried.

Unable to swallow the lump in her throat, Juhree waited for the pain to ease. Jilly had been her best friend, ever. Her only friend.

Grandee’s worried blue eyes made Juhree choke up even more. She loved Grandee so much. They had spent a whole year traveling together after Grandee rescued her from her solitary life.

Are you all right? she asked.

I’m a little confused, Juhree admitted tearfully.

Understandable. You suffered head trauma. The doctor said you had a concussion. Do you know who I am?

Yes, Grandee. I know who you are. Where I am. Why I’m here. Also that my best friend is dead. Someone needs to notify Jilly’s family.

Your father and I couldn’t figure out how to use her phone. We checked yours, but didn’t find her family in your contacts.

Do you know where her phone is now?

Yes. I took it home. Since no one knows anything about Jilly except that she was living with you, the hospital gave her possessions to me.

Grandee patted her arm and Juhree ‘read’ her thoughts. I’m so glad you’re alive.

All her life Juhree had ‘thought-read’ people, but the only person she’d ever told was Jilly, who understood because she knew a lot of other people who also ‘read’ others.

The doctor confirmed that you have no internal injuries, Grandee said, smiling. However, you were unconscious longer than she expected.

I must have wanted a long nap, she quipped.

You are a delight. Grandee reached for her hand, the one with the fewest tubes attached. Words cannot express how much I missed you after we finished our European tour and you started college. She squeezed her hand as she continued. I’m sorry about your friend. If you think it will be too painful to remove her things from the apartment, I’ll have them packed and donated before you leave the hospital.

"Thanks, but I want to go through Jilly’s stuff myself. Do you know if she died instantly?

Grandee frowned. We were told she was dead upon arrival at the hospital.

Did you see her?

Yes. Your father and I identified her. We’re very grateful you survived.

Me too, Juhree said, although she thought it a shame beautiful Jilly hadn’t.

Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?

Could you turn the light down?

Sure. Grandee touched the switch, dimmed the overhead light. Does your head hurt from the concussion?

Everything hurts, she mumbled, as a different masked nurse entered the room. Your doctor ordered you off the drip. No more intravenous. Everything now by mouth. Do you want something for pain?

Yes, please.

The nurse extended a tiny white cup with a single pill and a glass of water.

Juhree swallowed the tablet.

Don’t take any pills! Jilly shrilled.

Realizing it was too late, Juhree asked, Why?

Because they might make me groggy and I’m already having trouble making sense of what happened.

Did you say something? Grandee asked.

Juhree shook her head as the first nurse returned with a food tray.

This is just a snack. You slept through breakfast. Lunch will be ready in an hour or so.

While she was eating orange jell-o, her father arrived. Her mother still hadn’t returned.

Hello, sweetheart. How are you feeling?

She forced a smiled. Like I’ll live.

Honorable Judge Harold A. Perl bent close, raised his black mask and kissed her cheek. Your mother and I love you and we’re grateful you survived.

Juhree almost choked. Affection, implied or spoken by her parents, was rare.

ALONE IN THE AFTERNOON, anguish pulsed through Juhree while she waited for her doctor to show up and release her. Jilly had had so much to live for—a man she loved, doting parents, fantastic homeland. Juhree had Grandee, magic, college classes.

For the first fifteen years of her life, she had been in and out of hospitals. Every time she so much as sniffled, her mother had summoned their chauffeur and rushed her to hospital emergency. Not because she was critically ill...because her mother didn’t want germs to taint the interior of her spotless showcase mansion.

Being in hospitals had always been a treat because she saw and talked to people. At home she stayed in her room, day and night. She hadn’t attended school, public or private. Her mother had hired educators to teach her at home...in her room.

Her bedroom and en suite bath had also been her prison. She wasn’t locked in, but might as well have been. It was as if an invisible line had been drawn between her room and the upstairs hall and she was forbidden to cross that line. If she did, and she often had as a child, her mother freaked out.

A few months before her sixteenth birthday, Grandee had rescued her by insisting that she travel with her across Europe. That year had been the happiest of her life.

Her thoughts moved on to the car accident. Jilly had been driving the red Mazda convertible Juhree’s parents had given her for her birthday last August. At a busy intersection, a yellow pickup truck had come barreling from one direction and a green van came speeding from the other. Instead of stomping on the brake, Jilly had slammed her arm against Juhree’s chest and screamed, "We’ll be together for as long as I can sustain our connection."

Is that why she had two sets of memories? Did Jilly somehow plunk hers inside my head?

Are you here, Jilly?

Yes.

Did it hurt to die?

It happened so fast I didn’t have time to think about it.

I can hear you. Would it be possible to see you, too?

No. I’m not a ghost. I don’t even know if they exist.

What are you?

A spirit, I guess. Listen. I need you to go to my homeland and take my ashes to Mater and Pater. They have a spare bedroom. Stay there—with them.

I’ve never traveled anywhere alone.

You won’t be alone. I’ll be with you.

I’ll feel like a freak, talking to myself.

You’re not a freak. You’re special. You have magic. Besides, you’ll be talking to me. Just don’t use your mouth. Talk to me in your head.

I’ll think about your request.

You can’t think about it. You have to do it! And there’s something else you need to know.

What?

I gave you more than my memories.

What more?

My good health. I also transferred the baby I was expecting.

Juhree flinched, wondering if she had somehow misunderstood. What?

I said, you’re pregnant.

I can’t be, Juhree said, flabbergasted.

Yes, you can. And you are.

That isn’t possible.

I can’t explain how I transferred my memories or the fetus, but I did. If you don’t want to raise it, I’m sure Monteith will if it’s a son. If it’s a girl, my parents will be happy to have it.

Weird tremors scooted across Juhree’s bare arms. She didn’t like hearing Jilly call the baby an ‘it.’ What if I want to raise the child?

You’ll have to work that out with Monteith. In Apitcote, if a couple isn’t tied, men raise their sons and women raise their daughters.

How am I supposed to make a man I’ve never met believe I’m carrying his baby?

Don’t worry. I’ll help you figure out how to handle him.

Juhree wanted to help people, not ‘handle’ them. Are you sure you were pregnant? It’s only been a few weeks since Monteith came to visit.

I’m certain. I was a month along. Now you are. And you need to go to Apitcote asap.

I have no idea how to get there.

I’ll guide you. Tell you how to get in. You need to collect my ashes before Bede discovers I’m dead and gets them. My ashes are your entry into Api, along with the secret code and password.

With an inward sigh, Juhree accepted what fate had delivered. Thank you for being with me, Jilly.

Back at you, Juhree.

Two

The doctor didn’t show up until that night. Her parents had gone home but Grandee was still with her.

After examining her and going over her chart, the doctor said, If you have a good night you may go home tomorrow.

When she left, Juhree mumbled, I want to go home now.

I understand, Grandee sympathized. However, we both know patients don’t always get what they want.

Thanks for staying with me, Grandee.

I don’t want to be anywhere else. How do you feel?

Fine. She had zero pain and hadn’t taken anything except that one tablet hours ago. Was Jilly responsible? Had she really transferred her good health and the baby? How could that be possible? She didn’t have magic.

WILD DREAMS MADE HER toss and turn. Monsters attacked as she thrashed, and hundreds of Elementals—glowing insects—flew from every direction, stinging her arms, legs, face.

Jilly jerked upright. Looked around. Didn’t know where she was. What’s going on? Why am I so confused?

Her inability to move defeated the urge to scratch her arms, still stinging from the dream. She moved her lips but couldn’t form words. Her tongue felt too heavy, like a solid, unmovable lump.

She didn’t realize she had stiffened until Juhree’s grandmater said, You’re stiff as a board, dear. Relax. Take some slow even breaths, in and out.

Jilly did as suggested. The stiffness eased, but she still couldn’t move.

You must have had a bad dream. Lie back down. With loving gentleness, she eased Jilly back until her head rested on the pillow again. Then she pushed the button to call a nurse, who zoomed through the door moments later.

Nice to see you awake. I’m glad your accident didn’t leave any permanent damage.

Jilly didn’t reply. Couldn’t reply. But she could see. The bottom half of both women’s faces were covered. Why? And then she remembered. In some places on the Surface, surgical masks were mandatory. That’s why their voices sounded muffled.

I think she might be in shock, Juhree’s grandmater said. She jerked upright and stiffened. What would make that happen? Is she all right? Has the head trauma worsened?

I don’t think so. She’s watching us. I’m sure she understands what we’re saying. Try not to worry. The doctor has been summoned. She should be here soon.

Jilly wanted to say she did understand but she couldn’t force the effort. Rattled by her inability to speak and with hundreds of questions pouring through her, she closed her eyes and tried to rationalize the situation into some kind of sense.

After seeing the concern in Juhree’s grandmater’s eyes and feeling her loving hands, she no longer felt entirely like Jilly. But why was she in a bed in a room that must be a Surface hospital? What happened to Juhree? Where is she? I need her!

Her thoughts raced to Monteith. She was desperate to see him. Desperate to convince him to do what she wanted. Desperate to get back to Api, too. She had to get home.

Panic merged with doubts. Had her plans gone awry? Had she been too upset to think straight after the awful words she hurled at Monteith? They hadn’t communicated since. She had called, left messages, sent atexts but he had ignored every single one.

The nurse interrupted her thoughts as she straightened the bed covers. I understand your car got squashed and it’s a miracle you’re still alive.

Squashed? The word jolted through Jilly in jerky spasms. Where is Juhree? I need her gifts. Her magic. Thoughts churning, Jilly closed her eyes again. Nothing felt right. What was wrong?

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally remembered she had been driving Juhree’s car. A split second before the crash, she had grabbed Juhree and transferred her spirit to her little friend, knowing Juhree would do anything to maintain their friendship.

But she must never know everything. I buried my secrets so deep she will never find them. Someday I’ll possess her magic and her life force. But my future hinges on getting back to Apitcote. I could perish if I don’t maintain contact with Mater and Pater, or connect to my implements in their homeland.

Wondering what had gone wrong, Jilly reviewed the accident she had planned with meticulous precision. At the intersection she hadn’t seen the yellow truck until it was too late. That stupid, idiotic pickup driver demolished my plans.

Fighting the choking sensation of mortal tears, she swallowed. Mere seconds before the crash everything had changed. I wasn’t supposed to die.

The driver of the green van coming at the passenger side of the car had hit his brakes. The driver of the yellow pickup coming toward the driver’s side had not. Sitting in the passenger seat, Juhree had survived. Sitting behind the steering wheel, Jilly hadn’t.

Knowing she had used up too much energy taking over Juhree’s body and wouldn’t be able to assume again until she had a powerful source to draw from, Jilly murmured, I want to go home.

Juhree’s grandmater leaned close. The doctor was just in. She checked you, said you’re fine and you may still go home tomorrow.

Where was I when the doctor arrived? Why didn’t I see her? Hear her? What is wrong? This hospital and medical stuff were too weird to comprehend.

Jilly had a sudden urge to cry, but she couldn’t. She was just a spirit. Juhree’s life force was strong, and starting to take over. Determined not to do anything that might keep them from getting out of the room that smelled like tinctures and strange medicines and made her feel claustrophobic, Jilly stopped fighting the sinking sensations that were reducing her to air.

Try to rest, Grandee said. I’ll go home when you fall asleep again.

I gotta get out of here. Gotta get out of here.

Relax, Jilly, Juhree said. We’re both anxious to leave tomorrow and we will."

Take over, Jilly begged, vowing never to be reduced to begging again. This is your body. You’re supposed to be in charge.

She sensed Juhree’s internal giggle. I’ll be happy to be in charge as long as you’re with me.

Back at you, Jilly said. When I’m inside you, I can’t smell. But when I thought I was you, I could see and smell. This hospital stinks. I’m content to be where I am now. Don’t let me out again. It was spooky. I couldn’t remember and I couldn’t talk or move.

I didn’t let you out. You managed that by yourself. You always act quickly. That’s why I call you Jilly the Impetuous.

I love the words you use to describe people. Too bad you didn’t meet Monteith. Wonder what word you’d use to describe him.

What word do you think best describes him?

Fantastic. I’m prejudiced because I love him. He’s stubborn, too. But terrific in bed. Much better than Bede or any other guy I slept with.

I’m sorry your life was snatched away, Jilly. I feel responsible because you were driving my car.

Are your parents angry because you let me drive?

No. They’re relieved I’m alive. And cars can be replaced. Lives can’t. Your life can’t.

I’m exhausted. Let’s go to sleep. We have a ton of things to do tomorrow. Like make plans to fly to Kentucky.

Like get out of the hospital before someone discovers I’m pregnant and my family starts asking questions.

Your mater will freak out.

My family will probably be hurt because I won’t know how to explain the pregnancy.

I need to zonk. Jilly knew her plan, although altered, would work. She had taken over Juhree’s body and could assume it again. Her thoughts had been discombobulated, but next time everything would be in sync. She had to be patient and not take over too soon though—not until Juhree accomplished the things Jilly needed her to do. By then the timing would be perfect.

Disappointed by Jilly’s abrupt departure, Juhree frowned. Jilly, can you hear me?

Jilly didn’t answer. Her spirit had apparently shut down. Juhree tried to look on the bright side. Jilly said they would be together as long as she could maintain the connection, but nothing would ever be the same. Her beautiful friend was gone. Thankfully her spirit lingered.

Juhree closed her eyes. Sleep came swiftly. And without dreams.

MORNING ARRIVED, DARK and dreary. Not ready to face the complications that lay ahead, Juhree kept her eyes closed. Heavy snow fell outside. She always knew when it snowed, although the only times she’d played in it were inside her head.

We need to get out of here before somebody discovers your condition.

Welcome back, Jilly, Juhree said.

Sorry I zonked. Everything’s weird. I can’t control my coming and going. I hate not being able to see. We need to get to Apitcote.

Used to Jilly’s disjointed comments, Juhree asked, "How long will it take to get there?

After we fly to Kentucky, we’ll helicopter to a small town named Atope where you can buy a miner’s helmet. From there, we’ll take a jeep ride to Apitcote’s enquay, and then hike through a tunnel. That will take about half a day if we don’t dally. Before we reach the shunnel that transports the shuzzle from the tunnel to Apitcote, we’ll have to clear security. My ashes and the password will grant permission to get through the portal and I’ll provide the code to open the veil.

First, I have to convince my doctor and my family I’m well enough to travel. And if I go, I should notify the university and withdraw from classes or arrange to catch up when I return.

Are you considering not going to my homeland?

Jilly sounded upset. Hoping to calm her, Juhree spoke slowly. I’m considering my options. And the complications.

That’s why you’re Juhree the Reticent.

I need to think things through. Juhree glanced around the room. Although it was barely seven a.m., her mother once again occupied the arm chair. Grandee sat on a chair on the other side of her bed.

I’m going home today, she announced.

Of course, Grandee said. Were you talking to yourself?

Before she could think of an answer, her mother announced, I’m taking you home where you belong.

I’m going to my apartment.

Helen Sue Marie’s disapproving eyes didn’t so much as flicker. I knew you would fuss about this. She stood, approached the bed and towered above Juhree. I say you are not leaving until you agree to come home with us. She issued the words like an ultimatum, all the time glaring.

Juhree didn’t allow herself to be intimidated. Her mother no longer had the capacity to control her. In six months, she would be nineteen—she was already an adult in the eyes of the law.

Lowering the bed rail, she slid off with Grandee’s aid, then faced her mother across the rumpled sheets. Home is my apartment.

Her mother placed her hands dramatically on her slender hips. What if you need help?

I’ll call nine-one-one. Or Grandee. Her home isn’t far away.

You’re welcome to spend a few days with me, Grandee said. Perhaps that will put your mother’s mind at ease.

Thanks. Juhree had no intention of staying anywhere except her apartment. Grandee would understand. She always did. Did you bring Jilly’s phone?

Yes. I’ll give it to you after you’re checked out. Your father is taking care of that now.

To her relief, her father walked in, ending further confrontation with her mother. Compassion splashed through her. He looked older. Was her accident responsible? Or had living with her mother finally worn him down?

You’re checked out, sweetheart, he said. Are you feeling all right?

Yes. I’m fine. I’ll be even better when I get home. She kept that thought to herself.

Do you want to ride with me? he asked.

Yes. She turned to Grandee. Did you drive or take a taxi?

A cab. I could use a ride, too.

Blaine brought me, Helen said archly. You’ll be more comfortable riding in the limo.

Dad can drop us off on his way to work, Juhree disagreed.

Right, Harold said. No need for Blaine to drive in the opposite direction in a snow storm, Helen.

Her mother puffed up her shoulders and frowned at Juhree. I expected a little gratitude.

You expected to control me. As she had for years, Juhree kept those words locked inside and tried to sound grateful. I do appreciate you, Mother. You must be tired after spending so much time here. I’m sure you’ll be happy to go home and relax, knowing I’m near Grandee.

I do wish you would call her grandmother. The title sounds so much better.

I asked her to call me Grandee, she said for the thousandth time.

You’re not the best influence she’s ever had, Helen remarked stiffly. Traveling with you taught her to be stubborn.

Exhibiting her independence isn’t actually being stubborn, Grandee countered. It means she’s grown up. Capable of taking care of herself. She no longer needs an adult to tell her what to do or how to do it.

You do enjoy countermanding and belittling me, don’t you, Dee?

Mother enjoys having a good debate, Harold said, surprising Juhree because he never interfered. Perhaps leaving their home and exerting her independence had changed things for the better. Perhaps not. But she hoped so—for his sake.

GRANDEE WENT WITH JUHREE to collect Jilly’s ashes. Getting them wasn’t a problem. Bede was, though. Ten minutes after they arrived back at her apartment, he rang the doorbell and pounded on her door. Her ability to ‘thought-read’ told her he was furious.

You have company, Grandee said.

Juhree debated whether to respond or ignore Bede’s pounding. Deciding she might be able to help ease his grief, she unlatched the chain, disabled the security system, and unlocked the door.

Bede stormed inside, brewing for a fight. Ignoring Grandee, he lashed out, You stole Jilly’s ashes.

I didn’t steal them. I picked them up as she asked me to do.

How could she ask when she’s dead?

She asked before she died.

When?

In my car. Just before the ambulance arrived.

If you think I believe that, you’re even more naïve than I thought.

If you think I’m lying, I doubt I’ll be able to convince you otherwise.

You have no right to Jilly’s ashes.

I have as much right to take them to her parents as you do.

I knew her first.

I knew her best.

He wasn’t wearing a mask and