Fate did it again to her as she saw the curtains pulled back and Shelly’s austere face peek out at her. She barely had time to brush her face with the back of her hand before they were running through the snow to scope her from the confines of her battered old car. She collapsed into the arms of the closest things she had ever known to parents. And despite all of her resolve to be strong for them…and Peter, she was sobbing and shaking almost immediately. She had no idea how long the three of them stood there in the cold, hugging and crying. It seemed like a lifetime, but was probably only moments. It was not until Jill drew back and wiped her eyes and snotty nose on the back of her coat sleeve that she noticed there was someone else standing on the porch. He must have been about the same age and she and Peter. But his distinctly African-American features would stand out in an area with few minorities. Shelly saw the directions of her eyes and explained, ‘That is Damran Williams. You. Her breeches were hung over a chair in the corner and she grimaced, seeing the blood and gore that stained them. But they were all she had so she grabbed an edge of the sheet and wiped as much as she could off before pulling them on. Wrapping her sword belt around her waist and putting Graeme's short sword in its sheath, she finally felt ready to go and find Balor.As she passed a mirror, she hesitated. Her hair was a mess, pins were coming out which left half of her hair down on her shoulders and the other half up. With a groan she pulled out the rest of the pins before grabbing a nearby brush and straightening out the tangles. Every time she got close to the bump on her head, she'd grimace, but kept at it anyway until her white blond hair shone in the light of the sun that came through the glassless windows.The sound of a horse took her to the window and she gasped as she recognized the rider. "Balor!" she cried, seeing him hesitate and then turn his face up to hers. "Don't leave me.
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