"They are telling me something here. Something important," I thought.The scarred man raised his arm and I could see a series of tattoos wrapped around...his arm. He was heavily muscled with a red cloak that hid a long sword, which he was drawing. My mind saw his movements before I was consciously aware of them, and I stepped directly into him to put my hand on his arm, stopping his draw."Stop," I commanded.The scarred man ignored me, his arm bulged with the effort and I squeezed his arm for all. Inside the houseand inside of me.Standing there in my old bedroom brought old memories rushing back to me.I had spent years worrying about what I might say or do because it couldcause someone pain and I was so afraid that it might happen again. Istill missed my mother so much and I realized that I had missed beingaround Jessica.It was time for some coffee with dad so I went downstairs to the kitchen.As I turned the corner at the bottom, I was confronted with a loud chorusof "Happy birthday dear. More

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