“Hey Rachel,” she said, with her smile all over her face. I decided not to play rough as she seemed to have a sharp pocket knife in her hand. “H...y Jane, nice to know you keep stuff from me,” I said, anyway. “Oh Rachel…come here you babydoll,” she said, walking over to me and giving me a hug, her arms draping over me, to cup the bottom of my asscheeks, which were bared under the shorts. I instantly broke into tears, her act of warmth having some kind of effect on me. “How could you do this to. And not calling wasn’t a real option because I care about Angie. I’m just afraid I’ve made things worse by doing the right thing.”“I see your point, but isn’t that almost the perfect test - if Angie handles it rationally and calmly, then how can anyone say she’s suffering from a mental illness? If she does have a relapse, then it basically shows she’s still sick.”“You’re right,” I replied. “But I still feel like I may have hurt more than helped.”“And your dilemma?”“I have no idea. I keep asking. More

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