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wheel and asked, “Ready to go?”
    Father Matthew nodded.
    The jeep glided smoothly along the highway. The yellow cab never drew too far out of his range.
    â€œHow do you like living at the monastery?” asked Father Matthew.
    â€œIt’s not what I expected.”
    â€œAnd what did you expect? A four star resort?”
    â€œIs that supposed to be a crack about my wealth?”
    â€œPerhaps,” said the Father.
    Rory didn’t respond as he concentrated. The cab’s direction mimicked his own, and he silently rejoiced.
    â€œForgive me.”
    â€œExcuse me?” asked Rory.
    â€œThe crack about your wealth was inappropriate. Father Thomas has shared your contribution amount with me. You have been more than generous.”
    Rory turned his head and studied the father.
    â€œDo not be angry with Father Thomas. I pressured him into telling me. It isn’t often that a person of your status comes to our humble establishment to work.”
    â€œSo you thought I was lying?”
    â€œThe thought crossed my mind. But from what I’ve heard, I was mistaken. You are taking your penance very seriously.”
    Rory turned his attention back to the road. He frowned. The cab with the mystery lady was gone.

Chapter Eight

    The man nodded. They pulled out into moving traffic. Along the way, the driver talked non-stop. Hannah leaned her head back against the head rest and closed her eyes. She wasn’t a very good tourist. She should be looking around, soaking in the sights and sounds of beautiful South Africa, but instead all she wanted to do was take a nice hot bath and sleep. Her eyelids grew heavy, and before long the noise of the cab driver faded away.
    The honking horn and the cab driver’s foreign tongue ranting and raving at anything blocking his path startled her. Sitting straighter, she peered at her watch. Almost an hour had passed since they’d left the airport.
    Looking around the ancient vehicle for a meter, Hannah cringed. She might be in trouble. The cash she carried was limited. She contemplated the idea that she might have to work off the payment. Disgusting thoughts like cleaning the cab came to mind.
    A smile graced her face. Perhaps the driver will take a n autographed copy of my first novel in lieu of payment .
    Facing the window, she looked outside. The countryside flashed by in slow motion. The air inside the cab became musty and stifling. Hannah rolled down the window to take a breath of fresh air, but instead her lungs filled with dust.
    The cab driver hid a laugh behind his hand and started talking again. Hannah ignored him, took out a pair of well-worn sunglasses, and settled them on the bridge of her nose. “How much farther?”
    â€œNot far, not far,” he replied. A smile split his mouth and showed off pearly white teeth.
    Hannah settled back against the seat once more and gathered her purse onto her lap. Discreetly she counted the bills within. Sighing, she realized it had been a mistake not to call Melanie. She’d wanted to surprise her. It would be a surprise, all right.
    She would show up on Melanie’s doorstep and say, “ Hi, Melanie so happy to see you. Do you have a couple of hundred rand to throw my way so I can pay the cabby and stay out of jail? Okay, thanks. ”
    Yeah, that was going to go over real well .
    The home probably employed workers whose only job was to drive to the airport and pick people up.
    Leaders from the missionary board frequently visited, bringing potential investors. Melanie once complained this was the only part of her work she detested, putting on a show for the bigwigs that came to visit.
    Melanie herself came from a wealthy family and was used to entertaining. She’d met Korzan Sekibo while in college. From a wealthy Sudanese family, he’d been sent to the United States to receive an education. Korzan spent hours in the library with his nose buried in one book or another. That was