As I neared the scene I could just make out a woman’s body on the ground in such a tortured looking position that she had to be dead, or the pain of...lying like that would have forced her to move. Beyond her were four others huddled behind what looked like a concrete garbage can holder, obviously trying not to become the second victim. I could hear their sobs and, as I got nearer, I could hear some of what they were saying. Looking around for the shooter was the best choice I could have made, as. Her mother met her in the kitchen with a kiss and a hug and let her keep her clothes on this time. The same thing happened when her father got home. There was no mention of the beautiful slavegirl. They acted as if nothing had ever happened.It all remained normal until Christmas Eve when her mother walked into her room. Faith was already in her flannel pajamas and was warmly snuggled in bed.?That was Mrs. Philpott, sweetie,? Jill said as she sat down on the edge of Faith’s bed. She reached. More

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