Authors: Debra Shiveley Welch
Vic
k
i
re
t
u
r
n
ed
to
h
e
r
o
f
fice.
P
u
tting
h
e
r
feet
u
p
,
and
res
t
i
n
g
t
he
m on
t
h
e
to
p
o
f
her
d
e
s
k
,
she nes
t
ed
t
h
e
ba
c
k
of her
he
a
d
i
n
her
c
up
p
ed hand
s
,
leaning back
in
t
h
e
co
m
fortab
l
e,
leather
c
h
air
whi
c
h
L
e
na
insist
e
d u
po
n f
o
r
her
e
m
plo
y
er’s
o
ff
i
ce.
She
l
o
v
e
d
g
o
i
ng ba
c
k
o
v
er
t
h
e
past
three years.
She
en
joy
e
d
the
r
e
m
e
m
b
e
r
i
ng
,
sa
v
or
e
d
t
h
e
m
e
m
or
ies,
like
a child
carrying
her
C
h
rist
m
as st
o
c
k
i
n
g
around
u
n
til s
h
e w
e
n
t to
b
e
d
on
C
h
rist
m
as
n
i
gh
t
, cra
d
ling
it in
h
er ar
m
s
un
til
s
h
e sle
p
t.
She
saw
herse
l
f
t
u
r
n
i
n
g
f
r
om
w
i
pi
n
g
d
ow
n
t
h
e
co
u
n
te
r
,
saw
Lena sitti
n
g
stiffly at a ta
b
le,
h
an
d
s clas
p
ed, an
i
n
te
n
t l
o
ok
u
pon
h
er elf
i
n
face. She
he
a
rd her
s
elf
ask
i
f
t
h
ere was
an
yt
h
in
g
she
w
ou
l
d
li
k
e,
hea
r
d
Lena answer,
“
I’d like a
job,
please.”
S
h
e re
m
e
m
b
ered
h
er reactio
n
:
s
u
r
p
rise, c
o
nf
u
sio
n
,
i
n
cred
u
lity. She he
a
r
d h
e
r
m
ind
sa
y
:
“
I’m
s
o
rr
y
,
yo
u
’
re
to
o
you
n
g
.
I
n
e
e
d
s
o
m
eon
e
f
o
r
m
o
re
h
o
u
rs
than y
ou
c
a
n
wo
r
k
.
I
do
n
’t have
t
i
m
e
t
o
t
rain
yo
u
,”
a
nd
i
n
s
t
ead
hea
r
d
herse
l
f say,
“
W
h
e
n
c
a
n
y
o
u
start.”
It wa
sn
’t a qu
e
stion. It
was
a
stat
e
m
ent.
Were t
h
e
r
e
re
a
lly
gua
r
d
ian
a
n
gel
s
?
Vicki
co
uld
h
a
ve
sw
o
r
n
t
h
at
s
h
e felt a
h
an
d pr
e
ss
h
e
r
sh
ou
l
de
r
,
a b
o
dy le
a
n
i
n
to h
e
rs
an
d
w
h
isp
e
r
i
n
t
o her ear:
“
Ta
k
e
t
h
is opp
o
r
t
un
ity!”
Was it T.J
.
?
Was
h
e still
h
e
re
watc
h
ing over
h
e
r
?
S
h
e re
m
ai
n
ed fr
o
zen, still in
t
h
e
p
o
siti
o
n of wi
p
ing t
h
e co
un
ter,
b
a
r rag
in
h
e
r
h
an
d
,
p
ress
e
d
u
po
n
t
h
e
old,
s
c
r
a
tched
F
o
r
m
ica
s
u
rfac
e
.
S
h
e saw L
e
na
rise,
s
m
ile,
and
a
n
s
wer,