Runa sat on the roof of the Delaware Apartments, looking down at the river running alongside Race Street. She'd come a long way building up her skills in the last couple months, but she knew she had a long way to go. She had a home, friends, and a new life. She even had a father- in addition to her dad back home in Scotland. Jack had accepted her, and she didn't mind keeping their relation a secret. Easier for both of them: she wanted to earn her own way and stay under the radar, while he wanted to make sure Runa couldn't be used against him. 

Watching the sun set, Runa felt at peace with where she was- and where she was going. She missed her dad's tavern back in Scotland, missed him most of all, missed her brothers... but this was her life now. With a cold shock, Runa realized she'd done something similar to her mother: abandoned the life in the Scottish village to go selfishly pursue her own dreams. The realization of it hadn't hit her until now- and when she considered the impact on her dad, having it play out all over again... well, she almost went to the airport then and there. 

Frowning, she retreated inside and resolved to write him a nice letter. It was the least the man deserved. She described her life, talked to him about her friends, and even that act seemed to warm her. No, she wasn't like mother, who'd disappeared leaving letters behind. She'd stayed in touch, unlike the cold and ruthless Ada Berg.

Runa didn't know much about her mother. She had snatches of memory: a thin blonde with distinctive cheekbones and an imperious voice. Most of what she'd learned had been in the letter. Ada had been a hired killer- still was, assuming she was still alive. As Runa lay down for bed, she thought about what she'd been able to piece together.

Jack had gone to Italy with his right hand- Kates- but he'd returned to Philadelphia alone. He'd spent some time with Ada then, and Runa had been born 9 months or so later. 

But how had it happened?

As Runa fell asleep, she tried to imagine herself in the shoes of Kates- and in the shoes of her mother as well.

I hated waiting. Sitting around was dangerous, and the quicker you moved, the safer you were for the most part. All I knew is that when I needed to track down someone for a “talk” who owed money to my boss, it was the ones who sat around the most who were easier to find. Easier to hurt. But here I was, screwed to a barstool staring at the clock, waiting for the only man who could force me to sit still: Jack Mezzo. 

Say that name in the right parts of Philadelphia and doors would open for you. People’d give you that look out of the corner of their eye when they thought you weren’t paying attention, wondering what your connection was. Some people saw him as a kind of bogeyman. Others saw him as a respected businessman. But me? I’d known him too long to think of him as anything other than the young upstart wearing a suit a size too big for him. He’d grown into it, but to me he’d always be the young man starting out in the world. He probably thought about me the same way: the girl with the bronze knuckles fresh out of prison, looking to make her fortune.

We’d been together for years now. Not romantically together, though the thought had crossed my mind more than once, and I thought I’d seen the same in his eyes. A mafioso, a leader of a crew, and his chief enforcer getting together? Not exactly Shakespeare. It was strange enough being a woman who was an enforcer; my father had been a boxer and taught everything he knew, but it had taken a lot to prove myself with everyone thinking Jack had promoted me for my ass. Still, I had to admit it was a tempting thought to have someone there to kiss my bruises at the end of the day, especially if that man was Jack. Instead, the end of every day was another ‘maybe tomorrow’; there was just too much business for us to handle.

We’d carved out a good slice of Philadelphia for ourselves, me and Jackie. I was his right hand, and in the early days that hand was almost always a fist. Now, things had settled just enough for me to conceive of finishing the business I’d spent years working towards: getting revenge on the men who’d killed my father. Jackie had helped me: he was the planner, the brain that I needed to connect the dots. There were four men who’d walked into my life and taken my father from me- those shitstains needed to send four, because my dad could have killed any two of them easily.

One of the men, Freddie Russo, had been living in the slums of New Orleans. I turned him into a pincushion as Jackie smoked a cigarette on a nearby rooftop. Then we’d taken out a made guy in Boston, crossing a line that I never expected Jack to follow me on. But there he was, by my side as I used a knife to carve a message into Alberto Ferrari. We’d had to lay low for a while after that, handling issues in Philly before returning to my personal project. As much as I wanted revenge, it was Jackie who’d pushed me to cross the third name off my list: Tony Balducci.

Balducci had retired to Havana. Jack and I had gone down to see him, and it was the first time we’d kissed each other. After I’d shot Balducci in the head, his guards were throwing so much lead at us that we needed to jump off his boat and swim to shore. We’d dragged ourselves onto the beach, laughing and riding high off the adrenaline that came from a successful hit, and it’d just happened. I could still taste the salt. But that had been it- one kiss before we started running, and by the time we landed in Philly and found ourselves in the middle of a turf war, it just seemed strange to bring it up. Maybe he regretted it. I didn’t.

I didn’t have many regrets, really. With my father avenged, I could rest easy, and I was just one name away from making that a reality. Giuseppe Marano, though, would be the toughest nut to crack. He wasn’t an idiot, and he’d put the pieces together. He’d made a lot of money in the drug trade, and when his former associates started dropping he’d flown the coop, leaving the States to go hide overseas for a while. He had a villa in Campania that he’d staffed like a fortress. We’d waited months for him to get bored and leave, but it was clear now that he wasn’t going in. If I wanted him, I had to go get him.

As Jack walked in, I rolled my eyes at him in the bar mirror.

“You’re late,” I growled. He just grinned as he slipped into the stool next to me, pointing at a bottle to direct the bartender taking his order..

“For good reason,” he said, removing his wallet.

“I already paid.”

“Of course you did. And so did I- for her.”

Jack slid me a photograph on the bar: a striking blonde that I would have called beautiful if she’d had any hint of a smile or warmth on her face. I glared at him.

“Jack, did you really just show me a picture of a skirt you paid to-”

“Kates, do you really think that I’d-”

“Well then who the hell is she?”

Jack accepted his drink from the bartender, savoring both his whiskey and his torturing me with his silence. “She’s the way we’re going to to finish your revenge tour with a bang.”

I didn’t say anything. He was waiting for me to ask a question, and I was determined not to encourage him when he was pontificating like this. He smirked into his whiskey. I drank my beer and checked the clocked.

“Jackie, I swear to God if you don’t start talking I’m going to pick you up and throw you over this bar.” I was… seventy percent sure I could do that, and I was close to finding out.

“She’s a hired gun. Freelance hitter. She goes by ‘The Iceberg’. Based on her reputation, she’s just as cold and just as deadly.”

“And the fact that she’s a gorgeous blonde is just-”

“A bonus. Seeing you jealous is worth her fee by itself. Come on, we’ll talk on the plane.”

I turned to angrily protest my lack of jealousy, but he’d already finished his drink and started walking out. I followed him out into the night, as I’d done a thousand times before.

The flight over was all business: Jack had been reviewing Marano’s defenses and local contacts, studying a way to breach the fortress, while I mostly napped and looked out the window. We were a good team like that. 

By the time we’d landed in Rome and were riding southwards in the backseat of a town car driven by one of Jack’s other hires, I felt like it was that moment in the concert hall, right before the symphony begins. A pregnant, preparatory quiet. Four years in prison and four more years working for Jack had led us both to this point, where it would all end. With Marano buried, my past would be buried with it. Then, maybe it’d be time to really try to build a future. 

The Iceberg was waiting for us in a small but ornate house outside of Naples. It’d taken us half the night to get there, but we had no time to enjoy the moon hanging above. She was waiting for us in the foyer- a circular room with a large central staircase and doors on either side of it. Perhaps in keeping with her nickname, she was wearing a white jumpsuit. “Wearing” might have been an overly generous term; it looked like it was painted on her, and I couldn’t help notice the contrast with my own looser fitting blouse and slacks, which were both black. Well, if we had to try to hide outside in the moonlight, I guess we’d see which one of us could stick to the shadows and which one would be an easy target. She was a little taller than me, but with less muscle. She looked like a dancer; I looked like a… well, like someone who could kick your ass because you owed them money. 

She smiled, gave me a once over, then focused on Jack. I took the opportunity to start wandering off to the side, and her eyes tracked me like a predator.

“Mr. Mezzo. Your reputation precedes you. I hear you’re going to be a don before long.”

Jack shrugged off the compliment. “I don’t worry about what others say- only my own actions.”

“Parla italiano, signor Mezzo?”

“No. English.”

I liked to think that that lie was for my benefit, since Jack was aware I only knew a few phrases in Italian. It also could have been Jack being Jack, keeping a card up his sleeve, but I preferred the other explanation.

“Well you’ve paid quite a bit of money to get me here, Mr. Mezzo. Perhaps we can talk about the job you have for me?”

“What’s your name?” I asked. I’d tried to walk around her, but she’d shifted to keep both Jack and me in view. “Your real name, not Ice Clump or Blizzard or whatever the hell…”

“Ada Berg. And you must be Katherine Sparato. Why don’t we move into the dining room to continue our conversation?”

The dining room had a large rectangular table; food had been laid out, along with some maps, papers, and photographs. 

“You’ve had a chance to review the information?” asked Jack.

“I have,” Ada replied.

“And?”

“And Giuseppe Marano will die on Sunday night.”

Three days away. I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. Jack didn’t smile, though.

“How?” he asked.

“Because you’re getting what you paid for. I have contacts here in the area, and they’ve arranged for Marano to have a serious staffing problem Sunday evening. Earlier today, I killed the two men who were delivering his payroll. Yesterday, I disrupted his supply chains. This weekend, he’ll have a compound full of men with limited rations, nothing to drink, no paycheck, and a popular local festival happening in the city. Combine that with the fact that they’ve been getting paid to stand around doing nothing for months, and I expect maybe half  of the security to be there, and that half to be far less alert and motivated than usual.”

Jack was nodding, and even I had to admit that I was impressed.

“What’s your plan for eliminating him?” he asked.

“I climb the wall,” Ada said, “breach security, get into the main building here, and then end him quietly.”

“No,” said Jack, pointing at me. “She needs to do it.”

“Unacceptable,” said Ada, not even looking in my direction as her blue eyes drilled a hole into Jack. “I work alone.”

“You work for me,” said Jack. “I’ll double your fee for the inconvenience, but this is personal for Ka- for Miss Sparato. The two of us will be coming with you.”

Ada looked like she was about to shit snowballs, but she nodded. I didn’t care. I could put up with anyone who could deliver me Giuseppe Marano in three days.

By the afternoon of the next day, Jack and I had mostly recovered from our jet lag. Well I wasn’t sure exactly when Jack had recovered; his room was empty by the time I finally dragged myself out of bed. Sometimes the guy just didn’t sleep. When I came downstairs, he and Ada were on one of the couches in the sitting room, looking at a sketch of the patrol routes for Marano’s compound and trying to pick the best place to go over the wall.

She was sitting a little closer to Jack than I would have liked, but I didn’t blame her. Jack was a good looking guy, and it’s not like he had a ring on him. She was wearing a similar jumpsuit, this time a very light blue. Jack had ditched his jacket and had rolled up his sleeves. I was wearing my usual black blouse and slacks; I didn’t exactly have too many clothing options, especially on a short notice trip.

“Good morning,” said Jack. “We should be all ready for tomorrow.”

“Do you need any weapons?” asked Ada, standing to greet me with her hands clasped behind her back. “Ammunition?”

“Brought my own, thanks.”

There was a pause as the blue eyes scanned me. “Jack tells me you’re quite the fighter.”

I shrugged, picking up a plate and moving toward one of the pastries on a side table. “Well, he would know.”

“I’d like to as well.”

I forgot about the pastry and turned to face Ada with a raised eyebrow.

“I’d like to fight you,” she said, in an annoyingly matter of fact voice that made it abundantly clear she had no idea who she was dealing with. “To get to know you better, to help plan for tomorrow.”

“Why don’t you fight Jack, then?”

“I did.”

I looked at Jack, with my eyebrow now approaching my hairline. He shrugged. “Ada won,” he explained. “She’s very good.”

“Wonderful,” I said, allowing my voice to express some of my distaste for the blonde. “When do you want to do this, Ada?”

“Any time.”

It was the answer I was expecting, so I turned and whipped the plate at her face as hard and fast as I could. 

She seemed to be expecting it, and she managed to duck her head out of the way as the plate smashed into the wall behind her. But she didn’t expect the vase I’d grabbed from the table in the middle of the room and chucked toward her as well, and dodging that forced her to stumble. I had enough time to land a punch that sent her twisting backwards with the impact. She was only a couple feet from the wall, and I suspected that if I could pin her in close quarters than I’d be able to pummel her into submission. She surprised me by backing up toward the wall, but it was more surprising when she used it as a springboard to propel herself forward to kick me in the stomach. I blocked most of the blow, but it still drove me back to the middle of the room. I landed a couple more punches, but she was too slippery to let anything truly connect. Frustrated, I launched a punch that I immediately regretted, as she stepped inside my defenses and drove her elbow into my chin. She followed that up with a trip that I’d never seen before and, before I knew it, I was lying on my back looking up at the ceiling and her blue eyes.

She had her forearm against my throat. “You yield?” 

Fat chance of that, although I could see Jack stand up in my peripheral vision. He knew more than anyone how stubborn I was.

I waited for Ada to look towards Jack, even as the world started getting blurry around me. Then I lunged forward, biting off the button of the blouse that had been pushed towards my face. Ada looked down and I spit the button up in her eye. It wasn’t enough to hurt her, but it managed to surprise her, and that was all I needed to kick her off me and onto her back.

By the time we’d both found our feet, Jack was standing between us with a hand out in either direction. “Ada, I assume that was enough for your test?”

She nodded, but I could see where The Iceberg got her name from. I winked, then walked out of the room, looking back at Jack over my shoulder.

“I could have taken her, you know.”

I had the satisfaction of seeing Jack smile before I turned to climb the stairs.

***

Sparato was annoyingly confident as she walked away, and if it hadn’t been for Jack she might have lost a tooth. A front one. But with him there, it was better to just let Sparato continue with her delusion of superiority. As Jack watched her go, I took the opportunity to fix my hair and straighten the blue jumpsuit that I suspected was now torn in the lower back. 

“She’s very good,” I purred, sitting back on the couch, angling myself where Jack couldn’t see the rip. 

“She is,” Jack said, sitting down next to me. “She really is.”

“Well, you can both accompany me tomorrow.”

Jack nodded, still looking at the doorway where Kates had exited. He was preoccupied, and there was no use talking anymore. 

“We’ll speak more after dinner, Jack.”

I stood, and he did as well, bowing his head politely. I walked out of the room first, feeling the breeze behind me, hoping that Jack was admiring my figure more than he was amused at whatever Katherine Sparato had managed to do to my wardrobe.

Dinner, fortunately, was strictly business. We reviewed the minutiae of our attack: the insertion over the compound wall, the short trip inside the main house, the likely locations to eliminate Marano, and then multiple exits. Tonight would be a late night, with the aim to sleep as late as possible tomorrow to be ready for our nocturnal strike. 

I exited as quickly as I could, retreating to my room to read, though I occasionally crept out into the hall to check on the clients. As the night pushed on, I could still hear Mezzo and Sparato drinking and talking, and my annoyance began to grow along with their presumed intoxication. If this continued much longer, they’d be risking my life with this foolishness. But around 2 AM, the conversation ended and she left Jack’s room, apparently still fully dressed and composed. Surprising. A few minutes later, I left my own bed and went to find Jack.

He was a client, I told myself, and it would be best to confirm that there was nothing else he wanted to discuss. Any attraction was purely coincidental, and a detriment to the job. 

Between my bare feet, my experience on the job, and however much he’d have to drink, I could have killed him seventeen times before he finally noticed me. He was standing at his balcony, staring down at something in his hand.

I cleared my throat behind him, and he spoke without looking. 

“I’m glad you came back. I was going to save this for tomorrow, after things were finished, but…”.  

He turned with a grin, removing an emerald ring from behind his back and holding it up towards me.

“But Jack,” I smiled. “I barely know you.”

The ring was gone before I finished my sentence, and I moved next to him on the balcony, leaning on my forearms.

“My apologies,” he said. “I thought you were someone else.”

“Clearly,” I said, regretting the fact that I’d left that top button undone. It made it harder to pretend that I’d come for purely professional reasons. It was just hard to think of something at the moment. “It seemed like a beautiful piece. Could I see it?”

Jack hesitated for a moment, then handed it to me. It was a large emerald, cut in the shape of a cat’s eye and set in white gold. “This is well made. Italian. Family heirloom?”

Jack nodded. “It has a long history.”

“And a future, apparently.” I stood, crossing my arms in front of me, and took a deep breath. “Jack, despite my line of work, I tend towards brutal honesty in both business and personal matters. I came here tonight to try to sleep with you, but in the brief time I’ve known you, it’s clear that you’re not the type to want to propose to one woman and bed another. So instead, I’m going to go back to my bed to sleep, we’ll all kill Marano tomorrow, and then we’ll go our separate ways.”

Jack nodded, then flashed a grin that was illuminated by the moon shining down on the balcony. “I think that’d be best, Miss Berg.”

It took me much longer than usual to fall asleep that night.

“Enjoy the view, Jackie. If it’s the last thing you see, at least you’ll die happy,” muttered Kates she began her ascent up the wall.

“Shut it,” I hissed, scanning for guards. But we all climbed to the top without incident. There were even fewer guards than I’d hoped for: maybe a half dozen on active patrol with another four or five sleeping. Marano would almost certainly be in bed, and we moved silently in single file towards the big house.

I’d picked the lock to the house easily, and it might have been a clean job, if it wasn’t for a guard up for a piss. He managed to shout before all three of us shot him- messy shots from the Americans, one clean between the eyes from me. 

“Job’s fucked- let’s get out of here,” I said, getting inside the house and checking the front windows for the impending signs of activity from the rest of the compound.

“Marano dies,” said both Jack and Kates in unison. They shared a glance, then Jack took command.

“Kates, get upstairs and kill him.”

Smiling at Jack, she moved towards the stairs and went up. We could hear gunshots almost immediately, but Jack didn’t seem worried.

“Ada, this is what I’m paying you for. You and I will cover the doors.”

I had a thousand protests that I could make, but I was making too much money to do anything except follow orders. So I used a coat rack to smash one of the windows and open it up to help present an easier field of fire. I could see the machine moving behind Jack’s eyes as he studied the compound, as buildings that he knew intimately on paper suddenly sprang to life.

“They’ll come out of the barracks there,” he pointed. “But wait as long as you can to open up. We’ll get more of them in the first wave that way.”

I nodded, reaching for my second pistol and leveling them both towards the courtyard. The guards bunched together as Jack had predicted, and five out of the eight dropped from our combined fire. We played cat and mouse with the other three; I managed to drop one more when they peeked out of cover.

“This is taking too long, Jack! Go get her!”

Jack seemed startled, then concerned. Maybe he hadn’t noticed the time. Regardless, he was running up the stairs soon after. 

I continued to exchange fire with the last couple, surprised by the lack of reinforcements. Eventually, I mimicked a shocked grunt, cried out in pain, and dropped to the floor with both pistols pointed at the door. Listening to the footsteps, I was able to kill the first man the moment he stepped inside. Rising to my feet while firing, I jumped through the window, and shot the second man from outside as he was running to cover.

Turning back inside, I saw Jack flying down the stairs carrying Kates like she was nothing.

“Get a car, Ada. She’s been shot multiple times. Internal bleeding. I’ve already bandaged her as best I could, but we need the hospital with a quickness.”

I would have followed orders anyways, but something in his voice made me run even faster. A minute later, I’d found a car with the keys in the visor and pulled it in front of the house. Jack was in the back seat with Kates, and I sent the car barreling off through the front entrance, busting through the chained gate.

“The hospital, Ada. Now.”

Jack’s voice was cold, and when I glanced in the rearview mirror I could see the two of them in the back seat. Jack was sitting in the middle of the car, and he was cradling Kates in front of him. Even from my limited viewpoint, she didn’t look good.

“Jack,” said Kates. “I’m sorry. I took too long.”

“Save your strength, Kates. You’re going to be fine.”

“No.”

There was a pause, where the only sound was the racing engine. After a while, I could hear her labored voice again, with long pauses between her phrases.

“Thank you, Jack. For everything. I’m just sorry I can’t stay. I wish…”

I could hear him whispering to her, but she never spoke again. I must have driven for another five miles before he told me to slow down and return to the house.

He carried her inside the house, and he stayed with the body for the rest of the night in what had been her bedroom. When morning broke, I asked him if he wanted me to arrange to have the body shipped to Philadelphia, and I received only a businesslike nod in reply. I made the call and the arrangements, and stood next to Jack as he watched the body drive away. Part of me expected him to go with it, but he returned immediately to the room Kates had slept in.

He’d never cracked- not in the car, not during that night kneeling next to her corpse, and not when the car drove away. But when he went back and lay down in that bed, he broke, and I understood why he’d stayed behind.

When you lead a mafia crew, providing a somber presence at a funeral was something I supposed one became accustomed to. But a man who would be a don couldn’t mourn- couldn’t destroy a bedroom and erupt in a wordless scream. 

I’d never heard a scream like that. I don’t expect I ever will again.

You don’t earn a nickname like The Iceberg by feeling or expressing emotion, but something shifted in me during that scream. It built in intensity, and it grew more powerful just when you thought it had to end. Again. And again. 

I fell to my knees on the other side of that bedroom door, awed by the depth of his passion and his suffering. Did I feel anything? I can’t say. But witnessing that scream was like staring at the peak of Everest or the width of the Pacific. I had to acknowledge its power. The scream echoed in my ears for what seemed like forever, but it wasn’t repeated. It was like he’d put everything he’d had into that one outpouring of grief, and then he was gone.

For the next few days, he was almost catatonic. I provided him food, and he thanked me. I drew him a bath, and he thanked me. But he was lost in his own mind, and I was content to serve him like I’d never served another- at least of my own free will. In the quiet moments of the night, I imagined that I could still hear him screaming.

I’d never known such an enigmatic, enticing well of pain. Being around him was like performing ballet on the edge of an abyss. Here was one of the most powerful men in his city- a man who seemed destined to ascend to greatness- and he was standing on his balcony, staring up at the stars through blurry eyes. I simply couldn’t help myself, and as I slipped up through his arms to kiss him, to wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down to me, I could feel that power and suffering move within him. 

I let myself become lost in his pain, and I enjoyed every minute of it. He no longer thanked me politely, though he took everything I offered. For me, it was like living within a cyclone- calling him a man wouldn’t be accurate. He was lost, more animalistic than human, and the next few days were a blur of my pleasure and his desperation. And then, as quickly as it had begun, it had stopped. When I came to him under the crescent moon, he was dressed in a suit, standing at the balcony once again.

“Miss Berg,” he said, in a voice I hadn’t heard for weeks. “Why don’t you go get dressed? I’d like to speak with you.”

I studied him for a moment, then returned a few minutes later with my bag packed. He was still standing, waiting for me.

“Miss Berg, I feel like I’ve taken horrible advantage of you during these past…”

“It’s been a week or so,” I offered, inferring that he’d had no sense of time. 

“Okay,” Jack nodded in acceptance. “I’ve not treated you with kindness. I needed some time to-”

I shook my head. “Jack, I understand. Perfectly. This is what I wanted.”

I almost said more, but how do you explain to a man that his spiritual devastation is the most powerful aphrodisiac you’ve ever experienced?

Instead, I added, “And I don’t want anything more. You’ve got your life waiting for you, back in Philadelphia. I have my life here. You don’t owe me anything.”

Jack stood there for a long time. I made the first step toward him, but he shied away almost imperceptibly. Whoever he’d been the last few days, he was Jack Mezzo again, and he looked at me with new eyes- like he was seeing me for the first time in the last week.

“You’re right, Ada. I need to get back to my work. And so do you. Our account is settled. There’s just… that first night. I came in here and made a mess of things. The ring- the one I’d showed you before. I can’t find it, and I’ve looked everywhere. It might have gotten lost in the chaos of what happened that night. Have you seen it?”

I shook my head.

“Well,” he continued. “That’s that, then.” He paused for a moment, and I again had the sensation that he was seeing me clearly. He bowed his head respectfully. “Goodbye then, Ada. Take care.”

“Goodbye, Jack.”

I watched him climb into the car he hired, then drive away north towards Rome. Towards Philadelphia- his bright future in the American underworld. As the moon shone down over the countryside, I removed the emerald ring from my pocket, enjoying the way that the moonlight illuminated its many facets. Slipping it on my finger, I imagined that I could still hear that devastated scream echoing in the walls around me- and within me.

Runa woke up, drenched in sweat, and kicked the blanket off of her. She slipped out of bed and had a glass of water, cursing her overactive imagination. 

By all accounts, Ada Berg was a monster. A ruthless killer.

Runa had barely thrown a punch in her life, preferring to talk or sneak her way around conflict.

Most of the other Race Street associates were more comfortable with violence. Runa put her glass in the sink, staring out her window at the distant lights of The Cat and Phoenix.

Why hadn't she hurt anyone yet?

Was it due to her skillset? Good luck? Her conscience?

Or was she afraid that some part of her, inherited from her mother, would enjoy it?