’ ‘What about Harri, how did they meet?’ ‘They ought to tell you that. They met in college under pretty unusual circumstances.’ His look tol... me it was quite a story. ‘Oh, no. You can’t do that to me. You don’t tell me there is a wonderful story and refuse to tell it.’ ‘I can’t. I don’t want to spoil it for them,’ he said. ‘I’ll show surprise, amusement, whatever the situation calls for. They’ll never know you said a thing.’ ‘No can do.’ I pounced. I grabbed him from behind and moved my hands. This way, ladies.” They followed Rhonda to the front desk to sign up for my next workshop while I gathered my belongings and headed to the changing room in the rear.I had planned to pop into the bathroom straight away to strip off my dance wear and change into my regular clothes, but I got distracted by a text from my husband. As I wrote him a quick response, I thought I had heard someone brush past me, but when I looked around, I saw no one. I peeked through the curtain separating the dance. That was when I saw my hand. The first thing that struck me was how softand pink it was . The nails, usually an ugly mess due to my nervouschewing, were flawless... and the hand itself was absolutely tiny...The dizziness in my head became heavier now as I tried to separate thedreams from the reality I was sure I'd awoken in. I had memories of ascreen. Of looking at something I wasn't supposed to. Of wishing... thatwas it, there was a powerful wish made, a longing to escape, and then asurge of. The solitary resident of Strangways was Anita Handwriting, heiress of the non-stick bubblegum fortune. Anita was an extremely large but handsome African American woman in her early fifties who was known around the island for her generosity and her warm and cheeky personality. Noone could really believe that any men who had ventured into her territory could have been harmed in anyway. But the mystery remained. Every man who had visited her mansion, for whatever reason, for the last six months.