Two girs were dropped off in the red light area then the car turned to head to Zeta’s house.“So sweetie, where’d you work,” the driver asked, ...��I guess you’re an amateur?”“No, I’m not,” she insisted, so the Taxicab stopped in the ghetto area the wrong side of the railroad yards by union station, "That's it, twenty dollars worth, you got any cash?" No, look please, its not far," Zeta pleaded, "I have money at home." No cash, no ride!" the Taxi driver insisted."Please I'll do anything!" Zeta. Does he know about her father, she wonders, who fell on his own sword instead of allowing himself to be captured by him. Or her husband, an honest man who would not stand down from what he thought was right, and as punishment, has spent years on the run.Those were her years too, she thinks. Ever since she was newly married and first pregnant. Never safe or unguarded. Escaping into the night, fleeing from one city to the next - this last one still in ruins, it’s ground soaked in blood. All to. More

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