I reached down and grabbed Mary?s hand, I took a firm grip and held on tight, but I didn?t pull her up. She looked up at me in desperation, bewildered and confused, she began to panic, she tried to pull away from me, but I had her hand locked in mine. I watched as the tears began to stream down her face. The soldiers were approaching along the corridor, drawn like moths, heading towards the only office where the lights were on. The desperate girl made a last but futile lunge with her free hand in an effort to grab my arm, it was at that moment that I choose to let go of her hand. Her face a picture of wide-eyed terror, clawing in desperation at the empty space before her; she teetered precariously on the edge of the chair before crashing heavily upon the wooden floor. It was a matter of only a moment for me to lower the glass cover to the skylight; kneeling there surrounded by the inky blackness of the night sky, I could look down unobserved into the well lit interior of the office.. Is this really all she is destined for? Could she escape if she wanted to? Would the outside world accept her if she left this lifestyle behind? Chapter Seventeen: The Hierarchy Angel returned when her dance was over. Bishop was still there, talking with Rich. A few of Bishops men, obviously guards, stood by, watching the crowd. Upon approaching, one of the men stopped Angel with a hand in front of her. Naturally she stopped, looking down at his hand, then up at the man. He was bald, with tanned skin that stretched over his muscular arms, which threatened to rip the rolled up sleeves of his black button up shirt. He wore sunglasses that were dark enough to hide his eyes, and Angel wondered how he even saw her in the dimly lit warehouse. Giving the man a good look over, she sidestepped him, trying to get around his outstretched hand. The man was quick to grab Angels arm, holding her tightly. He felt her tense in his grip, and he grabbed her shoulder with his free hand, just in case.
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