And in her suffering she cared neither for herself nor for her own plight. She was concerned only for her son. Who would greet him after daycare?She s...ruggled to break free so rigorously that at times she thought she might lose consciousness. In the weak darkness of the kitchen colored spots floated in the air and out of reach, moving along the room like gentle snails. Her eyes swam with tears. She could hear her blood pumping. Flashes of heat interchanged with puddles of frost, and a long. In a swirl of black and white, I found myself in a grip tight enough to make a grizzly tap out "Don't ever do that to me again!" Heather said as she pulled back.My heart plummeted when I took a look at her face. Black lines of mascara (?) ran down her cheeks from where she had been crying. Her green eyes marred by red bloodshot splotches and tears still threatening to make her make-up run some more. When I finally found my voice, I asked what had happened, but that seemed to make Heather tear. More

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