The Mayor's P.O.V.
Gina occupies the narrow seat on the other side of the drone. Her head jerks towards the door as it closes - she has a scared feral quality to her, one I haven't encountered often. Not many people have had a similar life path to hers.
I hear her swallow hard as her big green eyes focus on me.
"Something tells me you don't usually accompany donors to the R-quarter," she says, but it sounds like a question.
I try to contain my smile as I stiffly shake my head, closing my eyes as I do.
She keeps staring at me, thirsty for knowledge, for more.
"What was so special about my mother, anyway?" she finally asks, fidgeting her long elegant fingers in distress.
Oh, Gina... Where do I begin?
I stare back at her, trying to form an appropriate response - one that would conv
