Hiding in Plain Sight-PROLOGUE-In a dimly lit room, at the top of a creaky wooden staircase, in an old tavern on the wrong side of town, a young woman stared at herself in a dirty, cracked mirror. It was unusual for this particular girl to waste time in self-contemplation. Every day she wore the same dirty clothes, and the same dirty face always looked back at her, so she rarely bothered to glance at the mirror on the wall. She knew that the face was pale and drawn, with high cheekbones and large blue eyes, the sunken cheeks below them giving her a malnourished appearance. But these features were not what had her attention now. It was her hair, once long and curling, that now lay flat against her head and just reached her jaw line. She had hacked it off moments before with a rather dull knife, and the act had completed her transformation. In the past few weeks, as she lay in the dark and plotted her escape, it had crossed her mind many times that, for once, she was glad to have no truly feminine features.