Chapter 121

Ashrac

She reminds me of one of my college professors whose nickname was Battleax. Flora is younger than my professor was, but she has the same look and demeanor. When I say "Sleep," she falls unconscious and slips into my embrace. I rarely use my ability to make someone sleep and often forget I have it. Thankfully it came in handy. I really didn't want to waste time listening to her whine. I'm on a schedule.

I lift her higher in my arms. Her stocky body is actually as light as a feather, which makes me think she may be inadequate to carry my child. I rest her on the bed, ignore her ugly socks and footwear that flash when her skirt rides high, and quickly pack her a bag using a small tote from her closet. I barely look at anything while grabbing jeans and shirts that look comfortable. I finally locate her undergarments in the top drawer of her dresser. I hold up one of her bras-a black lacy thing.

The woman on the bed draws my attention. She doesn't fit the image the bra invokes, but