Like, right now, I’m stopping myself from explaining in detail what depraved things I want to say and do and see...”“Thank you, dear, I think we...understand.”“Too much, huh? Sorry.”“I wish you could hug me,” said Stephanie. “I’m really feeling scared.”“I wish I could, too, baby girl,” I said. I caught myself using the old endearment that she had outgrown years ago. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to belittle you!” It was what she had said when she asked me, told me, really, to stop calling her that.“That’s. A scar remains, but it’s finally time to continue this story. I owe it to her, to you, and to myself. This chapter is dedicated to the real Grace and to all my readers who have waited so long to hear her voice again. =============== Ashlee leaned in close to the surface of a vanity mirror, a strand of her dark shoulder-length tresses clutched between two fingers. She studied the tips of her hair, assessing the split-ends and wondering if she should make an appointment with her stylist before. More

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