He said I could stay up for a while till the movie he was watching was over. He said to sit on the couch next to him, not thinking about it I sat. Wat...hing the movie, he would find reasons to touch my legs and chest. He leaned over to say something and put his hand on my thigh up by the bottom of my underwear. Towards the end of the movie, I could of sworn I felt his finger rub my crotch area. The movie ended and I got up to go to bed, he said give me a hug good night. Mom and I never did this. Tom Wainwright sat at his son’s bedside reading the books of poetry that he’d bought to read to aloud. He’d slept a bit but Will’s sleep had been restless and that had kept him awake. He’d also been reading about the problems that might lay ahead of Will. He knew that his cognitive capabilities seemed OK, well good enough to hold an argument. He’d read about people who’d made a complete recovery, but also found others who’d ended up like stroke victims. If determination had anything to do with. More

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