CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT (The Courthouse Cont...)

“I can never call you that ma’am, Master Dowell would be very angry with me,” he said those words with much seriousness. His face was full of pity, like a beggar in the street. I have had a very long day already, I didn’t have the strength to talk much.

“Alright fine, you can call me Mrs. Dowell when he is close by, but call me Helen when he is out of sight, and please stop bowing when you’re talking to me”. Although I feel strange about the name, I also couldn’t stand a man that is almost as old as my father to say my name with such an amount of respect. His face showed how reluctant he was to accept, but I persuaded him once more, and he finally gave in.

“This way, ma'am,” he said, pointing in the direction of the car. I waited a bit and watched Lucas's car slowly toll out of the courthouse parking lot. It reversed out so slowly that it barely lifted any sand from the ground. I followed the driver. He was a middle age man of about 54 years. He wore a tight-fitted black suit over a