”“I’ll be back.” I got up, retrieved it.“Chords,” Kara said. “We’ll do chords. Don’t do ‘em for me. Just do ‘em and let your min... go. Remember. Be thankful.”She put bow to string. I let my fingers play familiar basic chords and pickings that I wouldn’t mess up. I remember Mom and Dad being fascinated that I’d chosen the mandolin to learn.Kara could tell. “That’s it,” she said. “Remember. Simple, let your fingers play, let your heart feel...” She returned to playing along with me for a bit then,. "Possibly." It was a whisper."And this wasn't relevant? I didn't need to know this?" It was another time, Master. Another Vera. When we met ... that Vera was gone." Imprisoned, more like, wouldn't you say?" Oliver replied. "Chained up. Hidden away." Yes." And have you ever let her out?"Vera's head snapped up. "No, Master! Never once! Not since before we met!" Until tonight." Yes." Vera's head dropped again. "Until tonight." Tonight is not under discussion," Oliver told her. "I was there, and I. More

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