DROP FIFTEEN
“Hey, Cherry? Come on down for a second, will ya?” Hector yelled from downstairs.
Cherry felt a shiver running down her spine. There it was, the bad feeling. She couldn’t really say no, and he hadn’t asked for anything unreasonable.
She walked down the stairs slowly, each step one of drama, as if she was heading towards a firing squad.
Hector was down at his workshop, as usual. He had some project splayed out, that much was apparent. Parts and bits of armour and fabric were arrayed in a pattern-like fashion. “Yes, Hector?” she gulped.
“Come stand here,” he pointed. “Over here, where the light is.”
She did so. “What do you need me for?” she asked, but her real question was, ‘Is this the night where you finally show your real face?’
“To take measurements for your armour,”
