"No," Jake replied."You're not a detective, are you?" She walked around the desk."No..." Jake was beginning to remember.Dominica whispered into his ea.... "And Dan. There is no Dan. There's just you...Daniella."Jake remembered. And was no longer Jake. She was Daniella. She had been Daniellathe whole time. It wasn't 1938. It was the 21st century. It wasn't a typewriteron the desk, it was a laptop computer. She wasn't a man, she was a woman. Shewas Dominica's slave.Dominica whispered into her other. Mrs. Norton was sitting in a wooden chair by the only window in the kitchen. The light from the late afternoon sun was right behind her and still shining strongly enough that her features were obscured until I drew near. I approached her with some apprehension.Mrs. Norton was not at all as I'd pictured in my mind. In the recesses of my imagination, I'd seen a most unintimidating, smallish, round woman with rosy cheeks and a pleasant face. What I got instead was quite the opposite.Mrs. Norton,. More

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