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“Sorry”

“It’s okay I’m just not used to talk like that”

“Convent school?” she asked

“Exactly How did you know?”

“You have the look I went to St Andrews”

“You’re a Presbyterian”

“Very much fallen away I’m Jenna”

“Rachel O’Flanagan,” I said, taking her offered hand

“Quite the handle Liht?”

“You’ve been there?”

“Every su to Edinburgh, but I would take the train down, see hat This ell after the nastiness of course I’reened You’re Frosh, yeah?”

“Um, yeah”

Myabout, but only a vague one I was born and raised in America Any Irish accent I had was purely accidental, picked up frohborhood, church and elders Yet Jenna had knohere ere from, down to the city

I also couldn’t yet fatho and then not believing, or at least changing denominations It was all a lot to take in