The Power of Testimony

SAVING MY ASSASSIN
how she looked. Yet she was hardworking, honest, patient,
and passionate. Just like me.
One day my life would be wonderful, like the lives of the
characters in my books. I needed only to be patient, like Jane.
My musings were quickly interrupted by a voice I didn’t
recognize.
“I’ll tell your past and predict your future for food,
clothes, or money.”
I raised my head from my book. Gypsies! The ladies in
layers of long skirts carrying babies on their hips chattered
quickly about how they could help me. Their big gold earrings
wagged as they nodded their heads.
“What do you know about my past?” I asked. Gypsies
were known to steal kids, but maybe they only meant to help
me. I gingerly approached them.
“Go! Leave that girl alone!” A neighbor lady, coming
home from the market with her daughter, quickly waved
them away. Then she shook her finger at me. “You should be
happy in your present. Nothing good will come from looking
at your past.”
The Gypsies shuffled on, jewelry jingling as they left. As
the neighbor walked into the house, I heard her daughter
say, “She doesn’t need a Gypsy to tell her she’s not a member
of that family.”
I gripped the rope on the swing. Heat rushed to my head.
My heart pounded. I shook my head and hugged the book
under my arm. Would I be surprised to find out I wasn’t a
member of my family? Probably not. I didn’t look like any of
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