He is dying; his fate is in my hands." He raised them; they looked pale and pink in front of his dark suit. Studying them as he flexed his fingers, he...smiled."But of course, Mrs. Austin, you are a free woman and you have choices," he said. "You could decide against surgery. But then you'll have to live with a time bomb of your own creation, and your husband will be aware of that too. He'll know that every day could be his last, because you decided not to help him. You could wake up one morning. For them to come up...Thirty minutes later, I had my cell to keep me busy during the wait, the maids were lined up in the room. they were gorgeous and both in the middle twenties.I gulped slightly and ask, "What's this for?"The maid in the skimpiest uniform that barely covered her ass, boobs, or body and was made of latex stepped forwards."We are here to be serviced," and with that she walked over to me, pushed me down, and tore off my clothes. I gasped in horror and amazement at what she'd. “Can I help?” I asked. Rebecca turned to me and offered her hand, which surprised me. I shook it, obviously.“Hello, please excuse my manners. I’m Sister Rebecca. I hear your wife is taking Father Luigi to hospital?”Her English wasn’t quite flawless, but close.“Yes. He fell on his hand. My wife stumbled into him when she was nearly run over by a girl on a moped. I’m afraid we also lost most of the soup and the vegetables.”“And the flour...” she said, inspecting the torn bag that wasn’t even half. The rooms were rented to them. He found his table in the front where Monica and the driver were sitting and waiting for the reception to begin.Harry took his seat. He looked around. There are about fifty men and about twenty women. The color of their skins are more than half are black. Harry hated the knowledge of the people from his neighborhood. Harry had a really bad feeling about this. He didn't like it.There was a disc jockey working at the other end. He started the entrance music and.