Would he hear her confession? Although it was highly unorthodox for a priest to know which parishioner’s confession he was hearing, and vice versa�... he had not denied her. He had simply led her to the confessional, ignoring the questioning look of the archbishop. The things she had told him! Under any other circumstances he would’ve been shocked by her confessions, yes… but not so… tempted. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen, and yet she had done things with men that he had never even. “Can we continue this story later on, say after 5:30 mam?” Summer asked. “I still have a few things to attend to but I’d love to come back and here the rest of it. Would that alright with you?” Summer asked. And Betsy happily said yes. Summer came back, reminded Betsy where they left off at, and Betsy continued her story about Brandon. Betsy continued. “I liked that he came over all the time. I loved it that we talked about everything too. When I say everything, I mean everything you can think. . Nope, definitely not going anywhere soon. Where is he anyway? Damn damn damn... Time stopped for an eternity, then Jennifer broke the silence with a yelp when she heard someone working the latch on the garage door. She began shaking as it slowly rose noisily up its runners. Then her heart jumped when she saw someone duck under the door. It wasn't Robert. "Well, hi!" Karen! "How's it going? You look goooood." Jesus! "Surprised, Jennifer?" She smacked her riding crop into the leather glove on. Basically they took out my entire spine, starting from the tip of the tail bone and put it directly into my skull like a real spinal column. This made me stronger, react to things faster, more receptive to learning, not to mention they could do just about anything with me and know exactly when to stop right before my breaking point. The directive of this experiment they were doing was to create not just the perfect soldier but a perfect pilot. Now not a pilot in the essence of aircraft or such,.
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