The reflectionkneeling before him was a young woman. Long, curly, auburn hair hungjust past her shoulders. Her face was that perfect tone of skin that isso rare to find. Never a blemish had tainted it. Her teeth were whiteand perfect. His, too large, shirt couldn't hide her proud breasts asthey pushed the front of it out."Sam." Harold breathed the name. The pain swelled up inside him. In hischest. It wasn't fair. Why was he suffering this? To see his deaddaughter in his own reflection, in his very form. The pain rose to acrushing crescendo and the tortured man passed out. As she fell themirrors began to spin again."Miss? Miss, are you alright?" Samantha opened her eyes. Above her thelittle old woman who ran the hall of mirrors was staring into her face."You've fainted. I hope you're not ill."Sam sat up, brushing straw out of her sweater and hair as she did."No. I'm fine. It's just that I'm pregnant. I had flown home to sharethe news with my Dad that Bob, my husband, and I are going. Where you at?”“The Super 8 on S-B-T.”“I know exactly where that at. I’ma be there in a hour. You gone be ready.”“Yes, daddy.”“I like how you call me daddy. Lemme get off dis phone and I’ma call you when I get close.”“Ok. Be safe.”“Aight. Bye.”Dahlia received a text from Aubrey an hour later saying he was on his way and it would take him fifteen minutes. She texted him back saying that was cool and to call when he got in the parking lot.“Hey sexy,” Dahlia gleamed upon answering the call.“You still by yo’self,” Aubrey inquired.“Heck yeah, daddy!”“Shit! That’s what’s up! I’m the light by yo hotel. What the room number?”“Two one six.”“Aight. I’ma be there in two minutes. Waitin’ on dis got damn light. You got a chaser for the whiskey?”“Yeah, daddy. Some Coca-Cola.”“Yeah. Light just changed be there in a minute.”Aubrey turned his 1997 Supercharged gold Buick Riviera into the parking lot. He made a left and realized the room numbers were odd so he had to drive to the other side of the.
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