We come here for about three weeks each summer. I am supposed to be working on my latest thriller, for that is my profession. Crime Novelist. Instead,...I am watching her. She is sunbathing down on the beach.We are not on a private beach, so other people share our oceanfront. Jennifer is lying on a gray beach towel, facing the waves as the sun beats down on her back. She has a color that disgusts the other women I have seen watching her. They all dream of obtaining a tan like hers. For she. A man of color, very tall and elegantly dressed, holds out his hand.“Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jason Wallace and I am the executive director of White Inc”., he continues, showing her some papers.“I extend a warm welcome to you on behalf of the company.”Rebecca, somewhat surprised by this welcome, extends her hand to him in turn; unexpectedly, he kisses her hand reverently.“The car is waiting for us. Don’t worry about your luggage. We take care of everything”, the man continues,. Other figures were there too, a whole complement of them—shepherds and kings and sheep and cows and camels and even the donkey that had brought the family to the large, unpainted terra-cotta stable that framed the Holy Family. The Italian crèche was beautiful in its own right, exuding a contrasting feeling of delicacy and strength, earthiness and wonder. But to Emily’s eyes, it was far more than that. It was as near identical as she could remember across the decades to the crèche her mother had. I still could not form words but my thoughts were clear.I lay perfectly still remembering Peg’s instructions and closed my eyes. I was not slipping away again, but I decided the woman would not know one way or another. I felt her lips on mine and by reflex I kissed her back. Then I felt movement around me and opened my eyes enough to see the older woman, the leader, standing over us with her garish phallic shaped stick. She said something to the woman kissing me and she jumped away from me..