‘I…guess it’s healthy enough,’ he replied. ‘Fantastic. Okay, Ben, now you said there was more to your story than you already told me. Pleas..., go on.’ ‘Well, eh…my mother didn’t exactly die of natural causes.’ ‘Oh?’ He gave her another shake of the head. ‘…She was robbed and murdered.’ Angela’s face filled, understandably, with shock. ‘My goodness!’ she exclaimed. ‘Oh, Ben, I’m—again—so sorry! I…’ She was about to add that she didn’t know what to say, but it was just as well, as he went. ‘Reconstruction. I hate that word.’ I started to reply but then noticed that we had come to our destination. We stopped at the door of a modest shop. The sign on the window read, Peachtree Millinery – Rebecca Hastings Proprietress. We opened the door and walked in. Arrayed along one wall were bolts of fabric and in front of them stood books and illustrations of dress designs. On the other side of the room were finished dresses, some on hangars and a few on mannequins. The place was clean and. From his looks and her actions I knew what was coming. "It's Marci isn't it?" I asked.He nodded and continued. "They punched a hole in our lines and were starting through. Out gunned and out weighed she jumped into the middle of them and held them up long enough for help to arrive. By the time it was over that move cost them eight Mechs but it cost us Marci Franks. Her P. Hawk was totally trashed. She died fighting Pirates and holding the line. Knowing how close you two were I thought it only. I... you... he..." You thought I called you to come here because you and me were maybegetting back together? Did I make it sound that way? Oh, guess I did."She chuckled triumphantly. "Well, I didn't want your trip to becompletely for nothing, so I got you a date of your own." She hollered,"Hey, Cherise, your stallion is here."Into the room sauntered a tall Black woman, young and fit, wearing only asexy sports bra and yoga pants. Her hair was in a close-cut afro.She strutted up to Freddie,.