Belle and Quasimodo

Pierce, Colorado – 3028 A.D.

“Daddy, why can’t I go with you?” Four-year-old Meg Korso asked her father as he sped through the military base.

“You’re too young, Meg,” Joseph Korso- known to most as just Korso- replied. “Where I’m going is no place for a little girl.” He glanced down at Meg, who was sitting on his lap clutching her yêu thích stuffed animal; a màu hồng, hồng and purple seahorse he got for her while on assignment in Greece last year. He smiled at his daughter. “Besides, bạn like spending time with Sarah.”

Meg bit her lip. “I guess.” Sarah Hawkins was a nice woman...

Belle hurried back towards the house, her tim, trái tim racing. “You’ve done it now, Angel,” she đã đưa ý kiến to the small cream Pomeranian/Chihuahua crossbreed that was scampering along at her heels. Pausing for breath outside the door, Belle looked down at her dog. “Why did bạn have to nip her?”

Angel hung her head and looked genuinely apologetic. Belle sighed. She could never stay angry at Angel for long. “I know, I know,” she said, leaning on the wall. “You did it because she came at us with a cây chổi, chổi and shouted at me.”

Pushing open the door, she slipped quickly inside the Benbow Inn, weaving...