Absentmindedly, his other hand reached up and lightly fingered the scar on his own face. I don’t think he noticed what he was doing until he saw me ...atching, but when he did, he dropped his hand quickly and looked away, pain palpable in his eyes. “Hey,” I whispered. “Do you want to talk about it?” I had guessed a few things myself, just from watching him and thinking through the facts I knew about him, but I hadn’t been able to figure the whole thing out. He sighed and looked at me, as if. Allyson got up and walked over to the sofa where they’d let her sit down and get dressed again. She looked around the room. She liked it here. She really liked it. She imagined herself reclining on the sofa, reading a novel or playing on her cell phone. It all looked so warm, so inviting. She fantasized about growing up in this house. She would have been the oldest child, the older sister. She would have taken care of the boys, helped them with their homework, she could have helped Mrs. Hanson. More

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