She released her clutch on it as, dizzy with exhaustion, she leaned against the back of the pew and closed her eyes, her fingers grasping out automatically for support. But he was destined to have every tide of feeling awakened—every wound opened. His glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance. ‘I do not know of whom you speak. "You are my prisoner, Jack. So Michelle’s plans were to out her in front of an audience. Who is she, I say?” “My sister!” Annabel faltered.
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