No matter what happened, her parents would never be coming back. There would be no more singing at breakfast or thanking Dawn together for the dinners...that they had. No glass working with her father or sewing blankets with her mother. All of it was gone, never to return. Her throat threatened to clamp shut at those thoughts and she forced herself to look to the present. Hatra, despite her occasional tactlessness, was doing quite a charity here. There was no reason to be mad. There was a. I had secretly admired her from the first time I saw her walking towards me class in high school. She was standing there, waiting with her plate, talking to her friends, about three or four people ahead of me and I couldn’t resist staring at her. She was a beauty, I’ve said that, but a sweet, slim, tanned blonde that had a sense about her that would drive a sane man crazy. Her long locks splayed over her shoulders and down her back, framed the loveliest facial features imaginable. Her baby. More

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