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I had a rough night,” I told her.“Sorry,” she apologized. “My visit probably set it off. I, uh, heard some last night. I had the window open. ...ou must have too.”I frowned. “Yeah, Mary informed me that I talk in my sleep when Sabrina comes to visit.”“Does that happen a lot?” she asked, curious.“Most of the time, I just dream about the accident. A couple of times though, she’s come to talk to me. The first time was just after the twins were born. Last night was the second time.”She nodded. I. A small town girl, I knew I'd got that right. Small town, like mine. Itcoddles you, protects. A safe place, nice place, good folks. Too nicesometimes to know the way things really work: Take Mrs. Gentry, if youwill. Has she a clue? A small thing's big, in a small town; a note atschool, a book bag carried, a dance without an invitation. A sense there'ssomething else out there, beyond the town's closed-in horizon.A small town girl, a small time plan. An office job, respectable, away butnot too. More

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