‘Too bad that tire didn’t last. It would have been nice to see the record broken,’ she said softly. ‘I think the abuse my bike suffered was to... much for the tire to handle,’ I said seriously and then added, ‘Who are you again?’ ‘Katy Malloy. I ride sidecars,’ she stated as if I wouldn’t recognize the family name. ‘Any relationship to Joe and Robert?’ I inquired. ‘That would be my dad and my uncle,’ Katy whispered with sadness in her voice. Joe and Robert had both died racing. They were both. Had it been a different nun, I’m sure things would have gone a different direction, but Sister Olivia had all kinds of cool stories to tell, and she didn’t mind if I asked questions. I asked a lot of questions.She did most of the talking, of course. I mean she already knew everything about me except how I got my talent and exactly what I could do with it. But I didn’t know everything I could do with it, either, so we were both ignorant about that. What I learned about her might be compared to. More

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