CHAPTER Three
“Your brother showed me your last letter,” the man said. “It said you didn’t want to know my real name.”
“That is true,” Itana said. “I had a letter where he said a friend of his was mustering out of the army, and the friend might know enough to help me with my problem.”
She didn’t know where it had gone, but what the tall man had told her reminded her that she had gotten such a letter.
“And you wrote back saying that it was not safe for you to know the friend’s name or his face, but you gave a time and a place to meet him, and a password.”
“If you know that much, then you know what my problem is.”
“Well, the only problem anyone can help me with,” she added, thinking of her mother’s death in a daytime robbery gone wrong, of the death of her brother, whom she had forgott
