In her eyes, that made him the same as the other two men who’d hurt her. She asked if there was another girl, because the comment about ‘the body�...� confused her. Something didn’t add up. Echo wasn’t ‘the body’. She’d been badly hurt, but she hadn’t been killed. Just asleep for a while.Sweet eyes glossed over as an emptiness replaced the modicum of hope she’d salvaged. She rubbed the back of her neck, and did the same to her throat, but gently, though she wasn’t sure why she needed to be gentle.. Behind the counter was a young Pakistani woman, our eyes met."Where's Mr Abbassi" I asked. "He's gone to visit family in Pakistan" "Are you his daughter" "Yes" "I see" She smiled. She had large brown eyes-framed by charcoal makeup, she wore a tight black t-shirt, and she had thick glossy black hair that flowed down to her lower-back. My eyes wandered along the shelves of wine, as I was reading the back of a bottle she came from behind the counter and started rearranging items. "Do you get bored. More

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