Finkam was an odd name, half German, half Jew. Fink was an easily identifiable Jewish name, but Fink also meant finch in German. It was common for both. “It is like me,” thought Agatha, fingering her golden curls while staring at her own grey eyes in the mirror. Those same grey eyes flicked down at the black and white picture in front of her. “He looks serious in this photograph,” she thought. Andres, a brewer, “a good craft,” she mused. It was 1933 and prohibition in America had ended. Andres had a job in America. “I could go with him,” thought Agatha. “It would not be hard to convince him.” Andres’ first wife had died. No children. He was lonely and he appreciated Agatha’s kindness, but it was easy to be kind to Andres. Behind his serious eyes, was a fliker of laughter, and Agatha liked that. A new country, a new life, an opportunity just for the taking.