It stabbed at her heart, making her hate herself for the words she had hurled so carelessly at him. ‘You’re bleeding,’ she said, only now seeing...the crimson streak that trailed down the right side of his face. ‘Yeah, well, I got hit in the face with a door.’ ‘Serves you right for sneaking around in the dark,’ she said with little conviction. ‘Does it hurt?’ ‘Like you care…’ ‘I do care, Niko,’ she sighed, stepping forward. ‘Let me have a look.’ ‘Ouch. Damn, woman. Take it easy.’ ‘Stop whining,. .that's where I remembered the woman's voice from. It was thevoice of 'Aunt Joan'. It had felt odd calling someone I just met myaunt. But she and my mom had been best friends when they were little, soit wasn't like she was a complete stranger, even though she was to me.Plus Aunt Joan had gone out of her way to make us feel welcome andintroducing us to the rest of the congregation. As I was introduced tothe other kids, I found most of them called her 'Aunt Joan' too, whichmade me feel a little. More

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