[Bovice]

Holden frowned and put the tickets back in the envelope. "That's why Melody, possibly within the next forty-eight hours I will be dead again." He sighed. "Even though your going to fight for your own freedom, the French are going to figure out a way to get me involved." He ran his hand through his still wet hair. "I'm not worried about dying, I'm more worried about what is going to happen to you when I do." He looked at her. "I care about you greatly Melody. Much like a sister." He winced when he said that. He slid off of the bed to the floor, "I don't know if you are aware of my health, but it's not good..." He trailed off playing with his shirt. "I have a rare disease. And there is no cure." He sighed leaning his head back. He opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it.