Traveller & Enforcer Families…

She was a Romany Traveller. A gypsy—no matter what country she called home. And she dressed the part because it made her look small, feminine, and safe. When she was anything but. “To me the word gypsy denotes freedom. Most people make the mistake of thinking it is the Romany who moved from place to place and infused the word gypsy will all the sensual mystic it carries to this day. But that isn’t reality. Being a gypsy, or more to the point, a Traveller—isn’t decided by your blood—it’s cultural. There are many Romani who never moved from one place, they don’t travel so you can’t really call them gypsies. The whole wandering soul thing is more important than the blood running in your veins. It is believed the Romani came from India and yet the original Travellers were Irish.”

She stopped trying to explain it in a way he would understand, finally shrugging. “My family is Romani by blood, and we have been Travellers throughout our lives. We don’t call one country home—we call all of them home. We don’t have a specific loyalty to any nation, and yet we are driven to promote freedom and justice throughout the world—knowing the persecution that stems from a lack of both. Many Travellers serve in the military, as I do. There are many who do this for more than one country because it is a Traveller trait to protect those who are weaker. I believe my parents named me well. My soul cries for freedom and movement. I need to protect, well, everyone. And I have a difficult time staying in one place for long. No matter how you classify the term—the label of gypsy and my name suit me down to the bone. My family has been deeply involved with the Traveller community for all of our lives. Our parents and grandparents are Travellers. There isn’t anywhere on this earth that we can’t reach out and touch a dozen or more relatives and friends and hundreds of minor acquaintances. The number of those we consider family… are legion.

Gypsy grinned. “Okay. So, since you can relate to my intuition that we would need the caravan, can I ask you another question?” When he nodded, she asked, “Do you believe in magic?”

He blinked. Took a bite of the spaghetti while he tried to figure out what she meant by that question. The taste of the food distracted him. He took another bite. “This is fantastic!”

Gypsy smiled. “It better be. My maternal grandmother is Italian. She started teaching me to cook when I was three. My mother has reinforced those lessons. The sauce takes hours and is made from scratch. Preferably with tomatoes and herbs you’ve grown from seed with your own two hands. But in a pinch…those bought from a roadside vendor will do. Baring that—I am allowed to purchase my produce in one of those horrible, ungodly chain stores—only when I don’t have other options. I was saved from that moral dilemma. The family I stayed with had a garden full of basil and tomatoes and everything I needed.”

He cleaned his plate and nodded when she asked if he wanted more. “I can tell you that every moral issue and hour of scratch cooking was worth it. That is the best spaghetti I’ve ever had.”

“Thank you. And the magic?”

He looked at her and answered slowly, “Are we talking Las Vegas magicians who specialize in sleight of hand, or the mortal witch who specializes in love potions and charms, druids who shoot fire from their fingertips, or a Shaman who speaks to Mother Earth and transforms into one of her creatures at will?” He held his breath.

Gypsy opened her mouth then closed it. Frowned and said, “Definitely not Vegas magic, but pretty much everything else.”

Jason wondered if he could get away with a nod. Then figured that was being just a little cowardly. “I do believe in magic. Sometimes that magic comes from the natural environment around us. I believe there are those who know how to read the environment in a manner that seems magical because they are open to the earth’s energy. But I also believe there are those who know how to draw on those energies and create magic.”

Gypsy nodded. “Good enough. Let me tell you some more about the Gypsy Holocaust and the creation of the Enforcers.”

When she was ready, she said slowly, “It is important to know a little about the persecution of the Roma in Germany. While there were issues of racism throughout the rest of Europe, it was what happened in Germany that led to the creation of the Enforcers.”

“Okay.” Jason nodded.

“Most Roma children are taught some of this history. But my father made sure Rose and I knew in detail what led to the Porajmos, or Gypsy Holocaust, as well as what happened after. The Holocaust began in December 1942 when Heinrich Himmler, the Reich Leader of the SS decreed that in Germany and her controlled lands, all those with Roma blood were to be rounded up and forced into concentration camps. The systematic purge of my people started then. But there were many important issues leading to this time. The persecution and legal stranglehold on the Roma in Germany started as early as 1899 and grew progressively worse, culminating with the Porajmos.” She took a sip of water and looked out the window, wondering where to begin.

“Imagine the horror of having German politicians create law after law that restricted your right to even be seen in a public area, yet they could follow you and watch every move you made. Because if you were Roma, you couldn’t use a public swimming pool or park, and whole sections of the country were closed to you. You could be arrested at any time without cause. The consensus of the police and politicians was that when they put a gypsy behind bars, they were making the country safer.” Her heart hurt. She could only imagine how it was to live in a time like that. Well, she could do more than imagine. She’d read several diaries and stories of those who lived during that time.

Jason shook his head. “I know how horrible it was for anyone of color and I lived through a fraction of it since I am Native American. But I don’t think I ever heard of gypsies or the Romani being persecuted like this. And I never heard about the death camps and experiments being used on them. I really thought only people of the Jewish faith were targeted.”

“That was part of the problem. We didn’t have a voice, a structure, a political anything because as Rom, we don’t have one country we have many. For those who don’t make the distinction by blood, that also meant that as Travellers, we don’t have one country we have many. As a people, we just wanted to be left alone, to live and just enjoy our lives. We didn’t get involved with politics and we avoided the police at all costs. You didn’t think of us—because no one thought of us. We wanted to be invisible and we got what we wanted until the wrong people noticed us. The Nazis saw us and decided they wanted us gone.”

“I think I understand where this is going,” Jason said.

“It got a hell of a lot worse before it got there. When Hitler came to power, he wanted our undesirable racial group first contained, and then eliminated. We were deemed to have “degenerate” blood that would taint the purity of the German race. Whenever a Rom was arrested, they were forced to reveal where all their family members were located. In this way, the officials systematically created a centralized registry for all Roma living in Germany. That registry made it easy to hunt us down and round us up. Then in 1936, they took away our citizenship. The Romani weren’t allowed to vote or intermarry with Germans. Then they took it a step further and started sterilizing the Rom, isolating them within their own towns or work camps. Until eventually, they incarcerated the Romani in forced labor and death camps. In 1942, they started methodically exterminating the Roma, with a plan to wipe out not only those in Germany but any of the countries they invaded. They planned to annihilate the over one million Roma who lived in Europe at that time, and nearly succeeded.”

Jason sighed, “Understanding the motivations of Hitler when he was more than a little crazy, is difficult. He wanted an Arian nation where everyone looked the same, and for the most part, they acted the same. And those actions were based on whatever his preconceived idea of “normal” was.”

Gypsy nodded, staring blindly out the window at the passing scenery. “And Roma life, along with those of the Jewish faith, didn’t matter to him in the least. He wanted us gone, so in all parts of Nazi-controlled Europe he rounded us up to be killed in the gas chambers by the tens of thousands. The officials were more creative in the Soviet Union, where they utilized a mobile death squad, known as the Einsatzgruppen. This death squad went into the villages, annihilating all the Romani they found. In the end, they slaughtered over 8,000 people.”

She sighed. “And if that wasn’t enough, the Nazi’s used us for many of their medical experiments. In the end, an estimated 220,000 to over a million Romani were killed. Hitler targeted my people because we never fit anyone’s idea of normal. Not the blonde hair, blue-eyed Arian ideal. And our clothes were different, lifestyles different, food, religion, language—we offended Hitler on every level. He abhorred every single one of us.”

Rubbing the back of her neck, she whispered, “And then he found out about the magic. Some of the Roma and Travellers were able to look in the crystal ball and see bits and pieces of the future. Others had real success with charms and potions. And for every person that had real talent, there were ten more who pretended or developed ways to seem as if they possessed magic when they really didn’t. Hitler abhorred any talk of magic. The need to eliminate the Roma took a backseat to his desire to eradicate all traces of magic.”

Jason broke his silence, “It’s hard for me to find the words, but I don’t think I understand.”

“Hitler believed the Roma people had magic and could use divination, spells, and see the future. He was afraid of us. And he tried unsuccessfully to use us. He would take those who were reported to see the future and demand that they tell him how wonderful his life would be and how soon he would rule the world. But that wasn’t his fate, it wasn’t what was seen. So, he would kill the Rom because they wouldn’t lie to him. He wanted potions that would kill, poisons and spells that would bend others to his will.”

Jason interjected, “Let me guess, when the Rom refused to create such things, he would have them killed.”

“Yes. But more than that, he would have them tortured. Experimented on, trying to pry out their secrets or to horrify and scare them to the point they would confess all and do exactly what he wanted.”

She hesitated—this next story was truly horrific. But he had to understand why the Enforcers were needed. “One of the worst stories of how far he was willing to go was relayed by a former Jewish inmate of Auschwitz. The woman witnessed the brutal disfiguration and death of two four-year-old Roma twins named Guido and Ina. They were sewn together, back to back, like Siamese twins in a crazed experiment. Their wounds became infected,” she said, holding her hand over her heart and rubbing.

“The children were in pain, screaming nonstop, crying. The mother’s name was Stella, I remember that from my studies. She and her husband somehow had access to morphine. That fact always bothered me. You are in a death camp being tortured, but they leave out morphine? I think giving them access to it might have been another type of experiment. What would they do? Either way, the parents had the morphine and were able to end their children’s suffering.”

He held her shaking body through the muffled sobs, and when the sobs died down, through the hiccups. Finally, she just lay still in his arms. He continued to hold her. Figuring when she was ready to move, she would.

A few moments later…
Gypsy sighed. “I’ll try and finish this without another breakdown,” she said softly. “No police force or any country’s army protected the Roma. They never have. In fact, it was usually the police force and the military who were used to persecute us. Once Hitler was killed and his army subdued, the Roma and Traveller leaders that still lived, met and established the Enforcers. They are in many ways our own police force. For one thing, as a people, we didn’t trust any other authority, so no one would ever call the police for any reason. Even today our people rarely go to the police for internal matters. History taught us that if you call the police, they fill out a report where you are required to put in your address and personal information, which often includes the address of other family members. Past authorities have used that information to track us down and slaughter us. Do you blame us for never speaking to the police or any official?” she asked.

Jason shook his head no.

“You are damn right, no!” Her voice was indignant. “Once you go to the cops you are on their “radar” and that is to be avoided at all costs. So, the Enforcers began policing our own people. Helping in any way possible, dealing with those who hurt others or stole. It has always been an internal force. If a Roma hurt someone who wasn’t a Traveller or stole from an outsider…well, nothing was done. Eventually, the Enforcers began to gather intelligence. They dealt with a variety of issues, but most had to do with safety as a group. Was it safe for the Roma to live in this country? Or what areas or programs should the Travellers avoid when they lived on this continent? Initially, the Enforcers only took care of those who were Roma, but it didn’t take long to include the Travellers of all nations. The group is now all over the world and they have an intelligence network that is incredible. The Enforcers are trained in self-defense and they fight when necessary, but not typically in a group. Not like an army. Although I’ve often thought it wouldn’t take much to mobilize them. They are well trained, have discipline, and while they are accustomed to working alone or in small groups, they do follow a chain of command.”

She turned to him and stressed, “They look out for us. If someone is bothering a family member you call the Enforcers. Someone will come out and investigate and help. If you are fired at work because you are wrongly accused of something, you call the Enforcers, and they will investigate. Often, they solve the crime and the person’s job is reinstated. They handle kidnappings, theft, murder, and family disputes. That last one may not sound like much but believe me, the Roma can get out of hand. There are feuds that go on for decades like the Hatfield’s and the McCoy’s.” She took a deep breath and paused for a moment.

Jason handed her another bottle of water and she took a sip before continuing. “They also warn Travellers if they are in danger and will help evacuate an area if it becomes a hot zone. Historically the Roma rarely bought land or put their money in banks because we had to stay mobile. Selling took time, and if you needed to get your family to safety in an emergency, you couldn’t wait for the bank to open. Any land owned by the Roma was seized and any money kept in the bank was taken by the government.

Slowly over time, that attitude began to change. In many countries, there are Roma who feel safe enough to put down more permanent roots. Especially in the United States, Australia, and some of the European countries. But when things start to fall apart in a country, the Enforcers will help move money, belongings, family members—whatever is needed. We always keep most of our wealth in jewelry or in silver and gold.”

She grinned and pointed back at the wagon. “There is a reason the Vardo wagons were often garish and covered in gold and sparkles. That was our wealth. Some still do less obvious versions of that. But as a people, we learned to keep the wealth and our family close. The Enforcers have established evacuation routes and ways to get around or through customs in almost every country in the world. In many of those countries, there are multiple ways out. Those routes are carefully cultivated in advance of any need, and they are cautiously maintained.”

Jason found her explanation of the Enforcers role, intriguing. He had no idea that there was an entire intelligence agency that wasn’t attached to a specific country. One that had multiple ways to get in and out of any country they wanted. It was a security nightmare. He had a flash of insight. “Were you an Enforcer, before The General got you to sign up and work for him?” Jason knew the answer before she nodded. Of course, she was. How better to slip in and out of these countries unnoticed if you could use routes that were already in place. “Did Enforcers help if you had to leave a country in a crisis?”

Gypsy didn’t answer beyond another nod. She continued talking about the history of what had become a covert group, “They also help enforce some of the rules agreed upon by our people. There aren’t many. The main one is to keep a low profile. Also, we are tasked to protect each other and provide sanctuary to any who need it.” She flashed a smile again. “Which is why there is always someone nearby who will store my stuff. It’s just something we all do for each other. The last rule deals with helping any Travellers who have magic abilities. We all work to keep those secrets hidden.”

Books:
UnDuplicated Magic (Includes the Travellers, Druid Mages, & Native American Shamans,)
Autumn’s Awakening
Vlad & Veronica

Best Family Excerpt – Toddler Love Spell
She put one hand on her hip and said, “Look, you big idiot! It wasn’t me. For one thing, I just flat out wouldn’t do this to myself. For another, I have never played with love charms. Whoever did this is strong, maybe a little wild or untrained, but they are extremely powerful. The spell doesn’t feel finished. And don’t ask me how I know that, I just do. I’ve lived around this shit all my life.”

When he shook his head and began to say something, she cut him off.

“For the love of god and goddess, I can see the tie the spell made between us, you Jackass. There isn’t a touch of delicacy. It is like getting hit over the head with a brick of lust and heat. Any Rom over five years old could do better than this,” she insisted.

All the blood rushed out of Jason’s head and he swallowed hard. Dawning horror teased his mind. “You said love charm. What would someone use to create a charm or love spell?”

“Shit. I don’t know.” She looked up as if seeking answers from the stars. “The usual stuff. A coin or button. A shell or a small rock. For a potion, they would need to use bits and pieces of us, like hair or fingernail clippings or something. Because you need the essence of the couple you are targeting. I have been trained since birth not to leave hair in my brush and to bury my fingernail clippings. Love potions and crazy curses are why most Traveller women wear fake nails. It’s difficult to get to the real nail through the acrylic.”

But he left her talking to herself. He wasn’t listening anymore. Jason turned and walked away, taking out his link.

She shouted after him, “If you find out who did this, let them know I will come for them and make them pay!”

Jason groaned. He knew it wasn’t an idle threat. But it wouldn’t matter. He didn’t listen to any of the stuff she muttered about potions. Besides, neither of them took so much as a sip of anything but water and beer since they met.

But a love charm. He wasn’t sure. He told himself it was a wild stretch of his imagination. She couldn’t do this. She was too young. She wouldn’t know what passion was. But when Gypsy had said the love spell could be transferred with a charm, something like a shell…

He touched the shell in his pocket and shivered. Tried to reassure himself that he was jumping to conclusions. It made more sense if Gypsy was doing something or if the spell was directed at Gypsy. This couldn’t be his fault. Maybe the person who came to take her bike gave her the charm. Maybe Rose was taken by someone who wanted both women and the charm was meant to incapacitate her. He clutched at that explanation for a moment and then remembered that Gypsy also said the spell was done by someone who was untrained, but extremely powerful.

And that a magical Rom over five years old could do better. Shit! He was very afraid he knew who did this to them. Or him. She had done it for him. Wanting him to have his light.

He figured he was far enough away from Gypsy that she wouldn’t hear him make a call. Wouldn’t get close enough to snap the attraction back to full power. Because he didn’t think he could walk away again. The attraction was growing even though he’d put distance between them. Holding the shell Ahna gave him when they were at the beach, he looked at it, and then at his link. Hesitated. Surely not… but right now it was the only explanation. He slowly slid the shell back in his pocket and ran his hand through his hair. Frustrated and worried.

He didn’t call Tehya, nor did he call Franco. While they were loving parents and had their own powerful magic, what he needed right now was the best damn magic user he knew.

“Hey, Jason. What’s up?” Ricardo answered.

Jason didn’t waste time. “At the family reunion, Ahna told me not to worry that my light was coming. I put it down to some precog and empathy. But I think she wished on a seashell for me. A seashell she gave me that I’ve been carrying ever since.” He took the small white shell out of his pocket. Flipping it over so he could rub the slick, pink underside. Like he had done at least a hundred times since Ahna gave him the shell last week.

“I see, and what do you think she wished for?” Ricardo asked, his tone serious.

Jason sighed. “I think she asked for my light. I thought she meant because I’ve been in a dark place chasing this damn demon, but I believe I ended up with a love spell attached to me, that connects my libido to my new client. That love spell has turned into some type of intense enthrallment, one you can almost see. When we get within a few feet of each other, all we want to do is have sex. And before you tell me to stay away from her, I’m driving her truck to Colorado to help her find her missing sister. I still have at least eight hours in the damn vehicle!”

“Take a walk, preferably away from the woman. Let me go see Ahna for a minute and I’ll call you back.” Ricardo advised.

Jason knew he wasn’t joking when he said he would go see Ahna, even though they didn’t live in the same state.

Franco was married to Jason’s niece, Tehya. During the spring and summer, the couple with their tiny daughter lived in the family cabin at Christmas Meadows. Jason’s family had owned the legacy cabin in the high Uinta’s for centuries. The cabin and five others had been in the middle of the mountain range for several hundred years. No one else could build a cabin in the protected spot at the edge of the wildlife-filled meadow, but if the six families kept their cabins in good repair, they would remain a legacy inheritance forever.

Ricardo and Jane lived on a tropical island in Florida. But the Druid Mage could pop in anywhere he damn-well pleased.

Jason walked around the wagon and truck. He noticed that Gypsy had disappeared. He wondered where she went, but at the same time, he was glad she wasn’t hanging around trying to overhear his conversation. He heard what she said when she promised retribution on the person responsible for the love spell attached to them. A faint noise caught his attention and he had to grin. It was Gypsy, down by the river, ranting about making someone pay. Her choice of cuss words made his eyes water. Motherlickin? That sounded vile. But shit. He was never telling her who did this. He didn’t think she would hurt Ahna, but he didn’t know her well enough to know what she would do.

Jason’s communications link beeped.

Ricardo didn’t waste time with hellos. “I went to see Tehya and Franco. After I explained to them what we think might have happened, I spoke with Ahna. She said that she wanted you to find your light. To her, the woman represents your light. She WAS holding the shell when she wished that for you, so her wish is probably attached to the shell. It would be a hell of a lot harder for her to just send something like that out into the universe and have the spell find a home. So, we are going to hope the spell is attached to the shell. We know Ahna is strong, just not how strong. And to complicate matters she was standing in the ocean when she found the pretty shell. Saltwater for a Druid Mage works to increase the power of the incantation. Ahna didn’t know that what she was doing was an incantation, this child has a magical presence that is off the charts. For some reason, we all thought she was a Shaman and held some magic from Mother Earth, along with some healing abilities. Your flavor of magic is very powerful, but not really threatening. It’s more for the good. The destructive quotient is about in line with a Molotov cocktail.”

He let out a quiet breath. “I think with Ahna, instead of a Molotov cocktail we got the atomic bomb of magical ability. This is going to take all of us to contain and train. All she did is hope that you would fall in love with someone like her daddy loved mommy.”

Dear god. Out of the mouth of babes—Tehya and Franco couldn’t keep their hands off each other for five minutes even after more than a century of time together. They had an insatiable hunger for one another and an extremely powerful sex drive. Since Ahna wished that type of love onto him, he could well understand why the love spell had morphed into a stalking, uncontrollable Sex Magick spell that ramped up their erotic appetites.

He thought about the kind of power Ahna would someday control. “You need to re-evaluate our Shamanistic abilities. Tehya could bring down a city the size of LA with a thought. It would just shake itself right into the ocean. My sister’s ability to touch and soothe souls means if she wanted to, she could agitate them to hatred and war. Naomi could raise an army in seconds. You don’t want to know what I could do if I turned to the dark. Not all Shamans are the loving, peaceful people you know. Ahna’s abilities are probably a blend of magic. Not just Shaman or Druid. And think about this for a moment Ricardo. Both her parents are shifters. Both have chosen the wolf. But the Shaman in Ahna’s soul is what will choose the form she shifts to. What type of children does she spend the most time with? What kind of shifter do you think Ahna’s soul would like to be?”

A clear picture formed in his mind of his niece, standing in the sand and looking wistfully at the sky. She wasn’t looking at eagles, that was for damn sure. Thank god he wasn’t going to be responsible for training her. He would help because that was what families did, but his role in her magical upbringing would be small.

Ricardo cursed. “The dragonlings. She watches the dragonlings all the time. Damnit. We need to watch her very carefully and get her around some were-bunny children or something. I think Tehya and Franco should go live on the island for a bit. Give Ahna some room to grow. I’ll talk to them tonight and then see if I can find some less deadly playmates for her.”

“What are you going to do about her power?” Jason asked. Because Ricardo would be her main teacher. Tehya and Franco had different flavors of magic and wouldn’t know how to handle this. Ricardo would.

Ricardo sighed. “It isn’t just going to be me. I need to do some evaluation. After what you said the thought occurs to me that besides strong Druid magic, there is another flavor entwined in Ahna’s soul.”

“The Shaman from our family,” Jason stated.

“No. I already understood that, but there is actually a third. It’s a little confusing and at the same time makes perfect sense. In our family, my maternal grandmother’s heritage is usually drowned out in the DNA pool when a child is created. I’ll just have to see what it might mean if Ahna also has Syeira’s abilities added to the mix.”

Jason considered what he knew about Syeira Volantine. Basically, he found her to be a demanding, loving woman. A force to be dealt with. And he knew the woman was Romany. He wasn’t sure about her magical heritage. It wasn’t something he ever talked to her about. He frowned, realizing that Syeira could have been one of the magic users that Hitler had tried to wipe out. He wondered if she was old enough to have lived through that time. He’d known her for two hundred years, so her family’s makeup was strong enough to make her immortal. It was something to ask her at the next family gathering.

“One more thing Jason. And this is important. Ahna wished on a shell, she wasn’t consciously casting. Her thoughts were not for you to fall in love with anyone you saw, but to find YOUR light. The mommy and daddy stuff would have ramped up the passion because of the intensity of Franco and Tehya’s physical attraction. But—it wouldn’t create a link between you if the woman you are with wasn’t your light. And I have a question. Is the woman a gypsy? Ahna keeps calling her a gypsy.”

What the hell… “Crap Ricardo. The woman’s name is Gypsy. And yes, she is Rom, like your grandmother.”

Franco chimed in, “Hey Jason. I’m on the call too. I think I can help with the reference to the light. Ahna said that when her mother and I are together, we glow. Alone we are dark. So Tehya is my light. She said Jane is Ricardo’s light too. You told Tehya at the family reunion that Ahna said your light was coming. It wasn’t the light within you, Jason. But what Gypsy would bring you. She didn’t want you to miss it.”

“Shit you guys. I arranged to meet the woman my old army buddy wanted me to help—at the Devil’s Boardroom in Vegas. I thought the location would intimidate her. Forcing her to leave me the information and then she would get the hell out of dodge. Instead, the minute she walked in the door I went all caveman, practically beating on my chest and snarling at every tatted-up biker in the place. I wanted to fight everyone in that bar, just for looking at her.”

Ricardo whistled. “Is that hell hole still there? Geez. I’m picking the next date night. Jane would love that place. For that matter, so would Tehya. Wanna double date, Franco?”

Franco laughed. “Sure. And since it seems like Jason now has a wild woman of his own, we’ll wait to go until they’ve worked things out and can join us.”

Jason remembered the look of reluctance on Gypsy’s face when the fight broke out at the bar and they had to leave. Yeah, she would love going back. And both Jane and Tehya would love not only the bar but Gypsy. “She is not my woman.” Jason insisted.

Franco snorted. “Not yet. So, work on that. You might as well give in, Ahna wants you to have her.”

He had to get them to understand how dangerous the spell was. “Besides acting like an animal at the Boardroom, I have been sitting in the truck with her, wanting to pull over and jump on her. Another hour or so and I might have hurt her to get what I wanted. And Franco. I didn’t figure this shit out. I didn’t have any idea that something was wrong. Gypsy did. She said she could see the threads of the spell connecting us. And she is pissed and wants to make the one responsible for the spell—pay.”

“Oh, for hell’s sake. She is not going to blame a two-year-old.” Franco insisted.