til

s voice rang into her ears. Christian was standing by a door close to th

urned through them. He looked taller with the crotches under his armpits,

d to him, turning around.

nds wrapped around him in a tight embrace. She could

rd Matilda say with a mimick

, Christian. I was so scared, what's wrong with your family? They didn't want me to even. . .” She fi

she asked. “W

a question, Miss,”

i

e? Why are you. . . touching

lowly moved backwards, chuckling uneasily. “Christian, what

you are. If my family put you up to th

him, completely numb and unsure of how to feel. What she knew

“What are you doing, Christian. I'm your fi

ed briefly. “En

he noticed that Christian's finger beared no ornament. It wasn't there, the ring she had

I will not accept you coming into my house and telling me all these rubbish about an engagement. I do not know who you

is isn't happe

nd her eyes started to water. “Christian?” She

ic Salazar mansion. And so she quit, she couldn't tell him about the baby with the w

y of her car, Tiffany cri

*

the best room in the building. As Tiffany got up from bed she gave herself a mental note to tip the boy at the reception office. What was she planning to do that day? She was going for the second round. One more attempt to understand what was happening to Christian and why he had rejected her with so much certainty. There was something that bothered her though, as she walked out of the room that morning. When she looked into Christian's eyes the other day, he felt sure, he felt certain. He didn't think that he was lying, almost so that it made Tiffany feel like an insane person. He was sure of what he was saying or at least he believed it. Tiffany didn't know why. She tipped the reception boy and walked out of the motel. Her car, to her surprise didn't have a single piece of evidence that it was in a snowstorm. She smiled and waved