Jack of Harts

Charles was wearing a suit the day I first met him. An Old Money tailored dress suit that fitted him just right. We all got standard issued gear during training, but through some magic I never did understand he made it all look like it was tailored too. Even his PT gear fit better than it had any right to. And his dress whites were perfect every day. And when you bounced a quarter off his bunk, it hit the ceiling. I’m serious. Charles had a century of Family training under his belt before I met him, and he never let anything ruffle his feathers. He was cool. He was calm. And he was always ready to help people with a smile. He made you want to like him just by standing there. Which is why I hated his guts at first. I just couldn’t believe that he was real. It had to be an act. It wasn’t. He was real. Thank God.