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It may have been the rage. I needed to talk to her. I needed more than a break-up via Hallmark. I needed to slap some sense into McKayla. I needed to hear the words from her mouth telling me that she didn't love me.Only I didn't know where to go.I figured the only place she could be was her parents's house. That was about four hours away, but I didn't know where they lived. They had always come to visit us.After a few minutes of searching, I remembered that we had ordered some books for them at Christmas. I found the shipping address stored in our Amazon.com account, Mapquested directions, got in my car and drove off without even packing anything.The drive was miserable. I cursed and screamed at other drivers. I whipped myself into a fury. More than once, I had to pull over and cry.All the while, I could only wonder one thing: Why?It was dark by the time I got there. Don and Suzie lived in an exclusive suburban neighbourhood. You know the kind: the houses start at three quarters of a. It was the perfect camouflage for an ambush, which was exactly what this lopsided fight needed. It was a sour reprieve, as the village men would look down at their hands and see the only thing left of their home covering them. Their wives dowry, their children's toys, the wood door they spent an entire season carving, the tools they had gathered for countless generations; it all covered them. Aromir didn't see that when he looked at his hands, he saw his parents.They didn't have much. Aromir's father was a blade instructor at the academy until he broke both of his arms in a riding accident. He moved to D'mont when he healed. There he married the mayor's daughter Analee, and started testing various weapons for the smith's that forged there. It was a meager existence but they were happy. Aromir grew up as a well mannered boy, his father taught him history and how to read and write, hopping he would be a scholar at the academy. When he was denied admission, his father didn't raise a.
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