Page 306 - Demo

306Faith was a pretty girl. The only issue was that she could never sit calmly or keep her legs and hands still. She fidgeted. It was a nervous habit since she had been a young child. She still was... a pretty young woman, that is, despite the impact of a bomb in Northern Ireland that had shattered all of her limbs. It had led to the complete amputation of her arms and legs, and it ended her fidgeting forever. It was also a thing that hindered her entire life, and at such a tender age of seventeen. It was months later after the bomb and today she was celebrating her eighteenth birthday. The IRA had not actually done the dirty deed. It was some crackpot group of a modern age, still waving the flag of a United Ireland. Faith had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time: a nightclub with a bomb in it. Five people died. Many were injured. But Faith was physically destroyed most.The party was a small affair. Faith%u2019s mother and father were present, a lad not much older who lived down her road, and been strong on her until the bomb incident; her surgeon and his team that had helped save her life; and her teacher from two years ago. There was also a woman, a wealthy freelance journalist that had written about her and donated a great deal of money for her to buy the aids she needed to get by. There was also a man there of the cloth, a Dean*1 from the church that owned and funded the Covent of St. Mary%u2019s in Faringdon, England, where her family had moved to in the months she had to undergo extensive surgery. He had come to visit her in hospital and paid particular interest in her, with his order donating money to pay for private operations as the NHS has left her in such a mess.Dean Fredrick came up to Faith and handed her an envelope and FidgetChapter 1: Trial By Fire*1 See book 3.