Weakness

Weakness is a Tyme story by Terri Pray.

Artwork by Samuel Pray, created using Daz 3D, Photoshop and Filter Forge.

It was out there, she could feel it, feel the tug that worked its way into her chest and wrapped around her heart. Jada pressed one hand over her heart and closed her eyes for a moment. All she had to do was take a step and she’d feel the pull that told her which direction she would have to move, where her feet would need to place themselves in order to begin her journey.

Then stay, don’t go, don’t leave. They need me.

They would always need her but she was doing this for them, for all of them. Not just her own family but everyone else. Yet she had been the one it had reached out to. Her. A no one. Not even a warrior. Useless according to those sworn to the way of the warrior.

Weak.

Yes, she’d been called that more times than she wanted to think about. Weak and helpless, yet she was alive, she had children and she’d survived the invasion, even if she had done so without her mate standing by her side.

She swallowed and tried to clear the lump from her throat. The pressure, the summons remained, something she couldn’t and wouldn’t ignore. It called to her and she had to answer, to see what was on the other end of that call before it was too late. She wiped her hands down against her leggings before she turned to look at the door. No, it wasn’t time yet. She could still enjoy the company of her sleeping children.

The thought drew her attention and she looked down at the two cradles but kept her distance from both, at least for now. By the gods, she wanted to touch and hold her children. They were hers, her lifeline in this place, on this world. The proof of her right to exist even if she would never be accepted by the majority of her people. 

Without worth. Wasn’t that how they viewed her? Nothing but a breeder and one that even her mate had chosen to abandon in search of someone more suitable, at least that is what she had been told.

The damned man hadn’t even had the guts to speak to her before he’d vanished into the night, something she would never have thought him capable of doing until the morning she’d woken to find herself alone in their shared bed.

Odd.

What had changed between them that he had found it so needful to leave or had something else happened? If so, who held the answers?

My sister?

She shuddered at the thought and closed her eyes. Could it be that her sister was behind the loss of Jada’s mate? That her jealousy or her lack of understanding as to why a warrior male would choose her, had led to her mate’s disappearance? If that were the case then she would never know the truth, unless her mate was alive and returned to her.

Dead, he must be dead. That would be the only reason he would not return to see the birth of his children. Our children.

He’d vanished when she’d discovered she was pregnant and the loss of his presence in her life had been… painful. It would always hurt, she was woman enough to admit that. Yet it didn’t change the pain when she looked at her children and understood they would never know their father. Now she would leave them to follow a dream, an idea and what would that do to her babies?

Was this a foolish idea? Was she doing the right thing in leaving her children tonight in search of — of what? A dream? A legend? Something that might not even exist? What if she never returned?

She took a step toward the first cradle and leaned in. It didn’t matter if she failed to return, she had to try. Even if she failed, she would have at least proved that she wasn’t a coward, that she would never step down when she was called, when she was needed. Her children would be safe, she had the paperwork in place that would prevent her sister from claiming them and they would have the right to choose her own path, even leave Mars if they so wished, without interference from family members.

They would be free.

“Sleep little one. Sleep and know that I love you.” Jada smoothed a soft black curl back from the sleeping child’s eyes and let her fingers play over the lock for a moment before she tucked the quilt back in under his chin. She turned to the second bed in the room, her steps silent as she moved to the side and tucked her daughter in with the same care she had taken with her son. Neither child made a sound as she moved through the room instead their sleep remained undisturbed.

What was it like to sleep in such peace? To know, without doubt, that you were safe?

Had she ever enjoyed such rest when she had been a child? Had there been someone who had stood watch over her?

If there had, she had never been told of such things, nor was there one she could reach out to now in order to find out. The only one with any answer would be her sister and that was a woman who would never provide the information. Not unless it was something that would benefit the older woman. That was the nature of their relationship and had been for as long as Jada could remember.

She shook off the thought and slipped out of the room and pulled the door closed behind her in silence. She paused to listen, making sure that neither child had awoken with her exit and only then did she step away. They would sleep through the night, if the gods were kind, and they had done so for several months now.

A soft noise in the main room drew her attention and she forced a smile into place before turning to see the source. Tall, broad shouldered, with a slight scar on her left cheek, the woman stood there, leaning against the door frame. “They’re going to be soft, if you keep treating them like that. It’s not good for them, for any children to be raised like that. Too much love will weaken them. You know it’s not our way. Not the way of a warrior people. How can they be active members of the community if you continue to coddle them? No, you’re raising them to be nothing more than breeders, just like their mother.”

Jada folded her hands in front of her, refusing to let the tension she felt show in her stance. Love, a weakness? It wasn’t something she agreed with but the other woman was set in her ways. It wasn’t worth the fight. Jada took a deep breath and met the woman’s gaze, her voice calm but gentle and submissive. Anything else would start a fight, something she had no interest in, especially tonight. “So you’ve said, sister.”

The older woman snorted, nostrils flaring in disgust. “No fight in you, just like our mother. How you ever persuaded that man of yours to breed with you, is beyond me. Good warrior like that needed a stronger bed mate, one able to provide him with children to train in the arts. No, he picked you. Nothing more than a weakling, worthless to the rest of us.”

Jada kept silent.

“Not even the spirit to fight with words.” Megan spat and shook her head. “I’m ashamed to call you sister.”

“Would there be a point to it, Megan? Arguments would change nothing between us and I don’t recall the last time you named me as your sister to someone outside of this house.” Jada cursed herself for speaking but it was too late, once spoken the words could not be taken back. She clasped her hands before her and half bowed her head. Submissive, meek, those were the things she had to remember around her sister, at least if she wanted to leave and follow the signal that even now tugged on her heart and pulled her toward the mountains. “Forgive me, but I am needed at the temple tonight. I have given my word and I would not wish to let anyone down.”

“And you expect me to listen out for your brats, is that it?” Megan took a step toward her, one hand resting on her weapons belt, a breath away from the butt of her blaster.

“No, of course not. I would not ask you to lower yourself to the duties of child care.” Jada dropped her gaze once more. The very idea of letting Megan watch the children sickened her. Who knows what her sister would do to them in the name of toughing them up? “Lynda is here.” At least she had been only a few moments ago. Had the girl left when Megan had arrived?

“Watching brats is all that blasted girl is good for. I don’t know why we ever abandoned the old traditions. That one should have been left out on the slopes instead being allowed to live and weaken the bloodlines even further.” Megan turned, stalking her way through the house toward the kitchen. Her voice carried back, snatches of sentences, but it was plain that she didn’t expect a reply. “We lost much when we turned our back on the old ways.”

Jada sighed, peering after her sister. Only when she was certain that the older woman planned on grabbing a bite to eat, no doubt from the food Jada had prepared earlier in the day, and then vanishing for the night, did Jada then slip back into her own bedroom. There, perched on the narrow bed, a blond haired teenager waited, eyes wide as she looked from Jada to the door and back again.

“She won’t come in here and once she’s eaten, she’ll be gone for the night.” Jada explained, her voice pitched low. “She doesn’t want to be here, not relegated to the task of childcare.” Jada softened her words with a warm smile.

Lynda nodded, but said nothing, tears shining within her pale blue eyes. Her fingers tangled on her lap and she lowered her head as a soft tremble rn through her body. Every inch of Jada cried out with the need to hold Lynda and tell her she would be safe.

“You’ll be safe. Her words… they’re just that, words. She won’t strike you, not in my house.” Words. They were still a weapon, but one that Megan used with brute force rather than a delicate touch. Everything about Megan was like that. She stalked, stomped, lashed out, snapped, never stopping to apologize. At least, not to anyone of lower rank and as far as her sister was concerned, anyone unfit to be a warrior would always be of a lower rank. “Stay here, if you want. She never comes into my room. There’s nothing here that interests her and you will be able to access the children’s room from here.” Megan wouldn’t remain that long, no it wasn’t in her nature, yet Jada could understand Lynda’s concerns.

The teen offered a thin smile but nodded, lifting her right hand to scuff away a stray tear, the left arm, which ended just above the elbow, remained pressed against her side. “I know, I know you would never leave me where she could hurt me but…” she lifted the damaged arm, “she thinks I’m a waste of resources. She goes out of her way to say so about me or any others like me. We’re weak, worthless, a drain on the people and planet.”

“By the gods, you’re not any of those things.” Yet she’d heard the words herself. “She doesn’t see the beauty you create or the way children listen to you.”

“No, she sees this and believes that I will help raise children who will accept deformities without question.”

“And is that a bad thing?” Jada arched an eyebrow.

“Not to me, but those like Megan, they disagree.” Lynda lowered her gaze once more.

Gods alone knew she wanted to stay and reassure Lynda but the tug grew with each passing moment. She glanced at the door and then back at Lynda. Jada squeezed her shoulder. “If I could stay, I would but…”

“I know, I’ll be fine, really I will. You’re right, she won’t come in here and she’ll leave soon enough. She always has before.”

Courage, one of the things the warriors prized yet how many of them had looked at Lynda and dismissed her? Jada closed her eyes for a moment and settled her thoughts. If she returned then perhaps things would change? Perhaps there would be a better life for those like herself and Lynda? There was only one way to find out and in doing so she would prove to herself, if no one else, that she was far from weak. “I’ll be back as quick as I can. There’s food in the kitchen, three days of meals just in case, but I should be back before dawn.” At least, that was the plan, how well it would all work out was another matter entirely…

To Be continued next week. 

Lynda

Lynda is a Tyme setting story dealing with GLBT characters. This follows on from Ben, last week's post.

Artwork by Samuel Pray, created using Daz3D, Photoshop and Filterforge. 

This is where it went wrong.

Lynda turned to look back at the docking ramp. The Lair had been a home, her home, for a time, but that was over and done with. She’d tried, failed and now it was time to move on. But in leaving the ship, she’d returned to the very port where she’d joined the crew in the first place.

Havers Station.

“You can change your mind, they’d welcome you back among them and nothing would be said about it,” a warm voice, female, and very familiar.

“You know it won’t work for me… I just…” She sighed, pushed back her shoulders and turned to face the woman. Pressure built behind her eyes and, for a moment, her vision shifted, the color draining until she blinked and it returned to normal.

Mara Dacre stood on the ramp, her multi-colored hair caught back in a severe braid softened only by a handful of wisps that caressed the skin. Full lips twitched into a smile, light dancing in her eyes as she settled one hand on her hip. “You’re running but I understand why. I don’t agree with your choice, but I accept it.”

She doesn’t understand. Lynda rubbed the back of her neck unable to take her gaze away from the woman. “There’s a lot going on that I can’t explain. If I stayed this would be… I’d cause problems, even though I don’t want to.”

“No, you wouldn’t.” Mara walked down the ramp, a soft, sensual sway to her hips. It wasn’t something she forced, but a natural part of the way the woman moved. “I understand. I can see the problem. Like Fenris with Ben, I can’t offer you any hope of something because I love Fenris, and he isn’t a man who shares. So, I’ll respect who he is, all of who he is. That’s part of what you do when you find one you love.”

Fenris didn’t share, but Mara would? Was that what was being said here? “I… you’re poly minded?” She had to know, even if it wasn’t something she would be able to act upon. Why not, I could persuade him, couldn’t I? She shuddered at the thought. No. She wasn’t into men and even if she had been he was strong willed, not the type who might bend to the persuasion of another.

“Yes, such things aren’t uncommon in System One. Mars, especially, has a history of poly marriages and relationships.” Mara gave a one shoulder shrug.

“Oh…” did this change things? Was there… no, Mara had admitted that there wasn’t a chance because she wouldn’t betray Fenris nor would she force him to accept a third into their bed. “I didn’t know.”

“Why would you?” She stopped in front of Lynda. “You didn’t ask, and you’re not from System One, so unless you’d… well, next time ask.” She offered a warm smile and stepped off the end of the ramp, gesturing for Lynda to follow.

Gods, how she wanted to stay, to see if there was a chance to kiss those lips just once, to taste the woman in front of her, but that wasn’t going to happen. Mara was loyal - one of her traits that right now Lynda didn’t like. “Thank you, for telling me I mean.” The information didn’t do her any good though, but it eased some of her self doubts. “I thought I was imagining things, when I looked at you I mean. That there was nothing there but my own desire to…” she looked away, struggling to put the words into some form of order. “This is pointless. I need to leave, find a place to settle, or a ship to sign on with. Somewhere that I can start over again.” For what now, the tenth time? Maybe eleventh if she counted leaving her family home fifteen years ago. Still, that wasn’t such a bad number when you thought about it.

Mara slipped a piece of card from a hip pocket and offered it to her. “Captain Alys Diam has an opening that might work for you. Her ship, Black Wing, will dock tomorrow. She’s a good captain, experienced, she looks after her crew and I’ve sent her a recommendation.”

Lynda took the card before Mara had finished speaking. Shock rolled through her and she took a step back, still holding the card. “Why - why would you do this for me? I mean… a recommendation? That’s…” Such things were valuable, more so than credits as they carried you further in the long term.

“You’re skilled, and Alys needs reliable people. Just give me your word. If you take a berth there, you stay. For a year. Don’t jump ship at the first sign of trouble. Alys won’t thank you for it if you skip out on her and you’ll do yourself harm by running out on that ship.”

The ship or the captain - or were they one in the same?

“Don’t try and make sense of it now, not when you’d be better off focusing on Black Wing and your new berth.” Mara nodded toward the hustle and bustle of the landing zone. “Find yourself a room for the night, keep your head down and stay safe.”

Stay safe. Head down. Sure, she could do that. For a moment her throat tightened, tears blurring her vision before she blinked them away. “Thank you.” The temptation to reach out and touch Mara grew but she forced it back down and turned away. She didn’t have the right, wouldn’t push just because there would never be another chance, she’d leave with her dignity intact.

Keep walking, don’t look back. She won’t be there and even if she is, it won’t change things.

Her control threatened to slip but she kept her focus on the landing zone, on moving through the busy area with her head held high. A new berth, service with another captain, one she’d have to look up. Neither the ship nor the captain felt familiar to her. Not that she was an expert when it came to other ships. She remembered the ones she’d served on, and the ones they’d had conflicts with, but beyond that there were only a handful of other ships who’s names stood out.

Swan Song.

That was a name she would never forget, especially after the brief meeting several months ago. Not that she’d had a chance to meet anyone from that crew. Only the Captain, Mara and a handful of others had mingled with the crew of Swan Song. It hadn’t mattered at the time, now she couldn’t help but wonder if meeting that crew, or just the captain, would have changed things for her? Perhaps she’d have attempted to transfer over at that point, perhaps not, either way the chance had been and gone.

Voices, music, the clang of metal against metal, all combined with the hum of nearby ships. She flinched and looked around, after so long on board various ships, the noise of a port was, at first, a little overwhelming. This wasn’t a safe place to build any shields in order to cut down the background noise, but once she found a room to rent and locked the door, it was something she’d take care of. She didn’t lower her gaze, quicken her steps or slump her shoulders. If anything she added an arrogant strut to her walk, meeting the gaze of anyone who looked her way. One of the many things she’d learned during her last visit to Haver’s Station, she’d witnessed more than one person make the mistake of acting like a victim. You gave off those vibes, the hint of weakness, the inability to look people in the eye, or scurry around like a rabbit, and you placed a neon sign over your head screaming victim here.

Not a mistake she was willing to make.

The pressure that she’d felt around Mara, eased. The further she moved away from The Lair the easier it became. For a moment she was tempted to turn around, return to the ship and ask to come back, to become a part of the crew again, but it wouldn’t work. The need for Mara would return and with it the itch, the pressure, the push to say something, to act upon it and she’d lose control.

Sooner or later she always lost control.

Food and lodging were both easy to find, but locating both that felt safe enough to use, to enjoy, was another matter entirely. She dismissed the first ten or twelve places she found, noting small things that added to the unease she experienced when she investigated them. It took two hours before she finally walked in and paid for a room some distance away from the docking area. The hotel, and she used that term in the loosest possible way, was clean enough. Little more than a basic boarding house run by a husband and wife team. The vibe she picked up from the couple spoke of a partnership that had been together for years, and had experience that took them beyond the planet.

Former crew members?

No, there was something else about them. Hunters perhaps? Well, even bounty hunters had to retire at some point. You either retired when you had enough money, a nest egg to fall back on, or you died on the job.

Would she have enough sense to retire when the time came? After all, the same rule of thumb applied to spacers, crew members who moved from ship to ship without any real connection to a captain. The thought sat ill with her. Hadn’t her original plan, when she’d fled her home, been to find a crew, a ship, a captain she could serve under and with until the end of her days?

Romantic notions, best laid to rest before she made one mistake too many.

Except she knew of people who had done just that, or at least had friends who had told her stories about such people. Hadn’t there been something about some of the crew of the Swan Song? Not that it mattered, that ship wasn’t an independent, she knew that now, and when the crew wanted to retire they would find a place on one of the five worlds of System One.

Perhaps that was what she needed to do? Find a ship that was a part of a larger fleet, one tied to a world, or a system?

She shook off that idea and flopped onto the bed, folding her arms behind her head as she looked up at the stained and worn ceiling. The place wasn’t dirty but it was rough, the walls flaking in places, chips and marks in the walls and ceiling, things that - if she had a little more time or money - would have put her off taking the room here. Except the couple who ran the place, the way they spoke to her, watched her, it spoke of people who didn’t allow trouble. She’d be safe here, for a time at least. Long enough to rest before she took her new place, if the captain of the Black Wing offered her a place.

#

Alys Diam wasn’t what Lynda had expected. Despite being confined to a hover chair, the middle-aged woman lacked nothing in the way a commanding presence or the ability to assess those around her. Dark eyes narrowed on Lynda as Alys looked up from the data pad to the woman standing in front of her. With an irritated flick of her fingers she indicated that Lynda should take a seat on the other side of the table even as a server moved over to take their orders.

“Caff,” Alys ordered. “Cream, sugar, the works.”

Lynda hesitated for a moment. “Same, please.” If it was real caff, she’d deal with the cost, if it was the standard fake fare, then the hit on her credits would be less but the drink wouldn’t be as enjoyable. Either way, she’d deal.

“Lynda Jarvis.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lynda sat on the edge of the chair, refusing to relax. She couldn’t, didn’t know if the captain would see that as a weakness or a form of insolence. Neither were things she could risk.

“Formally of The Lair under the command of Fenris MacTire.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Clean record with him, no problems and let you left the ship. Dacre sent me a file, with MacTire’s permission according to the notes here. You were a good crew member, no issues, did your job and they were sorry to see you go. Which makes me wonder,” Alys leaned back in her hover chair, her gaze fixed on Lynda, “why did you leave?”

“Personal reasons.” She didn’t look away.

“Uh huh. Let’s get something straight from the start. If I ask a question I expect an answer. A full answer. No bullshit. So, you can either accept that or stop wasting my time.”

Lynda swallowed hard and looked away. “I didn’t…”

“You can either explain or leave, those are your two choices. I’m not offering a third.”

Shit. She took a deep breath, rolled her shoulders to work out the tension and ran the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip before she finally met Alys’ gaze and forced herself to speak. “I fell in love.”

“With a fellow member of the crew?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She paused, hoping that would be enough but a narrowing of eyes made it clear she was to continue. “I’m gay.”

“And this matters why?”

“It’s… who I…” She paused and shook her head, shame burning across her cheeks. “I fell in love with Mara Dacre and she’s involved. The captain isn’t the type of man to share, so I didn’t make a move, but the longer I was there, the more I was around her, the more it hurt. Maybe running, leaving, was the wrong thing to do, but it was the only thing that made sense at the time.” She took a breath, struggling to put her thoughts into order as she continued, pausing again only long enough for the server to set down the two mugs of caff. “I know myself well enough to understand that, if I’d stayed and continued to see that, to feel the love between them, knowing that it was something I would never be a part of, I’d have said something that would have damaged my position on the ship.”

Alys looked down at her mug and pulled it to her, taking the time to inhale and then taste the caff. A full smile graced her face, adding a light to her otherwise dark eyes. She gestured to the mug in front of Lynda, giving them both a break from the conversation.

Uncertain at first Lynda took hold of her mug and sipped. She blinked and stared down at the mug. “This is…”

“Yes, and that’s why I chose this place to meet you.”

Real caff, fresh cream, and was that actual sugar in the mix? Lynda closed her eyes and sank into the rare bliss that was authentic caff. “Damn.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” Alys set her mug down, the soft sound enough to draw Lynda’s attention. “You’re a passionate woman, that much is obvious, but you’re still young. Emotionally young and there’d be some who would say that I’d be a fool to sign you up.”

Lynda’s throat tightened.

“Yet you also knew enough to leave before the situation got out of hand. I don’t believe that running was the right thing to do do. Running seldom is, but I might have done the same thing in your position.”

That caught her off guard. “I thought you said I was young?”

“And you are, as was I at one point.” Alys’ smile turned into a warped, quirky thing that softened her features. “I don’t let people run from my ship. That’s the first thing you need to understand. Those who sign on with me, stay with me, for at least six months - unless I boot them off.”

“A year,” Lynda murmured and set her mug down. “I promised Mara I’d see a year through with you.”

“Good, that would give you a chance to settle. To get your thoughts and emotions in order and maybe learn a little something about yourself.” Alys took another sip from her mug, her eyes half closing as she watched Lynda. “It won’t be easy to keep your temper at first, or to remain calm as you learn to work with the rest of the crew. That’s to be expected and you’ll have help.”

Why is she willing to help me? Lynda kept the words to herself as she curled her hands around the mug. Warmth and temptation climbed up from the mug in curls of steam. The caff, like the position with Alys, were both offers she could walk away from, should walk away from as they were both too rich for her, fraught with problems and laden with traps, but where else would she go?

Staying here wasn’t a real option. She’d be faced with a rapidly decreasing source of funds, reduced to taking on work that she wanted nothing to do with, and remained trapped until she finally bit the bullet and took the first possible passage elsewhere that came up. That wasn’t a plan, it was a reaction. She took a deep breath and met Alys’ gaze. “Why are you offering me this chance? Is it Mara? Are you doing this for her?”

“No, she asked me to take a look at your file, but that’s all.”

“Then what?” What was she missing? What piece of the puzzle?

“I see a lot of myself in you, Lynda. The arrogance, uncertainty and fear. The self doubt and the need to push yourself combined with the desire to run rather than face problems head on. I was you, once… someone gave me a chance and I’m offering you the same thing. You’ll sign on with me, follow my rules and listen. You’ll learn, find out who you really are - because that’s your biggest problem. You’ve no idea who you are.”

Her chest tightened. She knew who she was, had always known, what had she done to make Alys think otherwise? She nibbled on the inside of her bottom lip as cold sweat left a line down the length of her spin. “You’re wrong.”

“Am I?” Alys leaned forward. “Look me in the eyes and tell me that. Tell me you know who you are, what you’re capable of and that you have no doubts.”

She opened her mouth to speak only to close it again. This should be easy. The words were right there, on the tip of her tongue so why couldn’t she give them life? She looked away and then back again at the captain, forcing herself to meet the woman’s gaze.

Dark eyes held hers, locked them in place, a needle of knowledge piercing through to the core of Lynda’s thoughts. Doubt flickered into life, fear merging with it until she felt tears slipping down her cheeks. What was wrong with her? She never cried in public, rarely cried in private - tears were a weakness, a door another could use to dig into your soul and yet - yet she was crying.

Alys broke eye contact by leaning back in her hover chair and bringing the mug to her lips once more. “Denial can be a powerful and yet dangerous thing, Lynda.”

“I don’t understand,” her voice was weak, uncertain as she shook her head, trying to clear the fog of emotions away.

“Nor will you until you face who you are and learn to control yourself. There’s a power within you, a gift that’s been locked away, something that Mara felt and so did another member of your crew. One by the name of Ben.”

Ben?

“What do you mean by power?”

The smile that claimed Alys lit up the older woman’s face. “You’re a psi - level two or three if I’m any judge, but it’s locked away. That’s why you have so many problems with your emotions. The power in you - it’s wild, untapped and struggling to get out. I can show you how to release it, how to use it and above all how to control it so it doesn’t push you into making more mistakes, ones there will be no coming back from.”

A psi?

That wasn’t true, it couldn’t be true. No one in her family had the gift, any of the gifts and there was nothing of System One in her family background, so why would she have any of the abilities? Except she knew that psi gifts weren’t limited to System One, they were just more likely from those bloodlines. “Are you certain?”

“I can feel it, almost taste it around you. It flicker in and out, touching the edges of my own abilities but it’s there. I’d stake my life on it.”

A psi, gifted, the power locked away. Could that really be the reason why she had been so unsettled of late, why she had felt the connection to Ben and to Mara? No, not Mara. That had been something else. Love, lust, it didn’t matter right now, she’d felt something for Mara, something she hadn’t wanted to ignore. Mara had cared too, that was why she’d reached out, offering a connection, help in the form of Alys Diam.

Walk away or accept the help…

“Where do I sign?”