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Mrs. B. was a great teacher for 10th grade English. Funny, engaging, personable—and a bit flirty. She was in her late-20s, just a couple years out of The University of Michigan, cute, nice body and flaming red hair that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back. She knew the boys all lusted after her and she did nothing to discourage our interest. Students even gave her a nickname, “Bubbles.” The administration was not pleased, but Mrs. B. didn’t seem to mind. She liked the attention. Oh, and I think that we actually learned a lot of English Lit between the horsing around.

“Cardinal Phelps! It was Cardinal Phelps! He ordered me to kill you! It’s as you say, because of Seraph and the Knight’s Sheath. Do you have any idea how much damage you caused this country and the church with your sins? Uther was mighty, with a bright future! Then you came along, sowing seeds of discord, driving a wedge between the kingdom and the gods, and crippling our savior! Had you stayed in exile, you would have been left alone, but you being here now will bring nothing but trouble!”

The next morning, Sarah awoke with a start, she felt well rested but with how late she stayed up that couldn’t be right. Without having time to consider what she’d done last night she checked her phone, her eyes widening on seeing the time. She’d slept past all three alarms! Like a whirlwind she quickly got dressed, combed her hair and made herself somewhat presentable before stomping down the stairs, where she was surprised to see her dad.