Being adopted into the Herman family was a blessing in hereyes, one that came out of a sad experience but was set in motionthrough no fault of her own...The next morning was a slow, agonizing time for Denise as she atebreakfast then endured having to be dressed in "mourning clothes" asshe called her black dress and pantyhose. She hated it, she hated darkcolors as they didn't look good on her tanned skin nor her dirtyblonde hair. She would have rather wear her normal clothes, but itwasn't right to. . Is he still here?" I asked.She shook her head. "He's eighteen. I think they arrested him for possession of illegal substances."I smiled at her. "Sounds like it worked." —Feeling, suddenly, strangely, like I was saying the wrong thing.Tears seeped out from her closed eyes. "What am I, Brandon? What did he ever do to me? I... I ruined him. I just got him sent to jail. And why? He wasn't hurting me, he wasn't threatening anyone but himself... He wasn't..." Her hands shook as she scrubbed at her. More

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