She was ten. Only a girl, little more than a child, really, but she liked to say she was a “pre-teenager”. She knew she looked older; she was tall, with long legs and her brown eyes shone in her cinnamon skin, tanned by the tropical sun. She had long, straight dark hair that came to the middle of her back and a ready smile. She was full of romantic dreams; in a time without television the evenings were long …
