Lucy sat in back of Jane Lenihan, who never spoke to her. "Vat ish it, Mishter Vild?" inquired Mendez. Folding his arms, he placed his back against the door, and burst into a loud laugh. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. The night was now profoundly dark.
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