Fortune turned towards Ginger with weary yellowed eyes. “Yes, I am ready. Please help me go forward to freedom.”
Rarely did servants at White Rose have the ability to make decisions which directly affected themselves. Singing spirituals provided only a desperate harmonic call for salvation. In reality, their everyday toils surrounded them in sheer domestic terror, eliminating any chance for rejoices. But today Fortune would exercise his supreme right as an individual; to live without the yoke of oppression.
Sensing his vulnerability, Ginger grabbed both of his broad hands in a surprisingly firm grip. “One way or the other we will get you to a better land. It is now in our plans and the Creator’s will to set the fate of your journey. Get some more rest Fortune. Mister Whip will show no qu
