No matter how they described it, it still sounded romantic to me. I spent two weeks running for my life. I didn’t eat anything for five days. It was...horrible. There’s nothing romantic about being a Damsel in Distress.“I know that when I write my story about how I was a Damsel in Distress, other young ladies will read it and think it is romantic. There is nothing that I can write that will convey the true deprivation that I went through.”“Did you do it for the romance?” Cynthia asked.Harriet. He is in his afterhours work attire, an unbuttoned white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, no longer crisp due to a long day, and tailored navy slacks. His dark tousled hair is dishevelled and I can see a semblance of a five o’clock shadow on his jaw. ‘Hey, you wanted to see me?’ I ask, putting my bags down on the floor right by the door. ‘So today is your last day here,’ he says it like a rhetorical question, his mouth forming a harsh grimace. ‘Yep, clearly you were busy with work up here?’ I. More

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