Portia
We drive out of the city, mostly taking backroads to wherever we're going. The three of us in the backseat are quiet while Felix alternates between taking calls and singing along with the radio, like we're on some bazaar family road trip. It must be at least two hours later that we reach our destination, a hulking house in the middle of nowhere, guarded heavily at the gates and beyond.
There must be two dozen cars parked out front and that many more soldiers loitering around the vehicles.
"This is the end of the line, ladies," Felix says as the car pulls to a stop around back.
The girl, no, not the girl. I know her name. Her real name. Mara looks both curiously and fearfully up at the house.
Felix focuses his attention on me. "That's turned ugly. Don't make me hit you again."
