An atrium dome spread out above us. I expected it to be hot but it was comfortable, if not cool. Green plants surrounded us with large white, purple and bright yellow flowers in full bloom. I shuffled along behind Emory who weaved in and out amongst the plants, their fresh scent an almost jarring change after my seemingly forever time locked away in a sterile cell. I wanted to slow down, perhaps even smell the flowers, but Emory pulled me along, unerringly headed for a central space where Lashae and Lady Kimbrough waited, seated in a pair of sturdy adirondack chairs. The ladies leaned toward each other, as if they were having a secret conversation.
Emory bowed her head once to each woman. “Head Mistress Lashae, Lady Kimbrough. How may I serve you?”
Lashae was dressed somewhat like Emory
