She was non-responsive, a deaf-mute, a shadow-girl. She didn’t exist, she knew that this man would know that one simple fact of her life better than...anyone else in this alley. He told her he didn’t want to take her to jail, that he thought he knew what had happened. If he guessed right, would she tell him he was right, he asked gently. He talked to her, told her what he thought had happened, told her about her missing hair, why her head hurt, what the taste in her mouth was — where that bloody. Ann saw him, and something broke inside her. She forgot about the fact that she hated him for the things he had said, that she could not stand him. She rushed to him, her arms flying around him as she buried her face into his chest and sobbed. Sam sighed inwardly and sank down into the grass with her. He held her, just as he had held her in the funeral. Now, he knew that she needed to talk. ‘It’s okay to miss him,’ he said softly as she sobbed. ‘If you want to talk, I’m here.’ He was right. She. More

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