Hers was not an enigmatic look such as is found on the Mona Lisa. She looked bored. No, not bored. Resigned. Adapted to fate. She sat on a bed of stra... in an old brick building, perhaps a barn. The steel collar around her neck was her only adornment, and the chain leading to the wall, a mere couple feet long, was her only accessory. So no, she was not a happy woman. She sat leaning against the wall, the window above her shining a golden ray of light into the otherwise barren room. She herself. From today, it's no longer a secret."He paused. He had their rapt attention."Before I go on, I'd like you all to meet Maria." He gestured at Maria, but she refused to look, clutching as closely to Shahia as she could. He looked back at the class; he could see them all making the same wrong connection that he and Lisa had first made. "Maria is Shahia's little sister." Shahia's story starts in Iran. Her father was born there, a Persian Shiite Muslim. Her mother was born in Lebanon, a Christian.. More

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