Miria had admired Bastion from afar, she was of age being nineteen, but she didn’t feel he felt the same. She began to help him with the daily chore... and doings to keep the cabin clean and the animals taken care of. The gardens had become a way for her to deal with the loss of her family and her favorite daily thing to do. She would notice Bastion watching her and would feel her heart flutter each time. Miria started to remember one warm night she crept into his room as he slept, thinking she. He had short, bristled hair, a clipped moustache and even though he was wearing a soft cotton shirt and black trousers it was easy to imagine him in some kind of military or police uniform. His English was excellent.‘Where am I? Why am I here? What’s happened to my friend, Miguel? I saw someone hit him, is he hurt?’ He bent forward coughing, his throat dry and rasping from the effects of the chloroform. He tried to leap to his feet but had to sit down abruptly as another wave of nausea and. More

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