Common courtesy dictates that we never drain the lifeblood of anyone to whom we've been formally introduced.

I'd like to see a world where, if a teenager fears she's seeing/hearing things, she feels as comfortable seeking help as she would if she found a lump on her leg.

There was no closing my eyes and sliding back into that blissful dream of normal. This was my normal now.

I'm behind you." I spun to see Derek. "I can't win," he said. "You're as skittish as a kitten.

Then he reached up and tore my shirtfront open. "Not much to see, is there?" I said, struggling to talk with a crushed windpipe. "I know, I know, they can fix things like that these days. Call me a feminist, but I think a woman's worth should be defined not by the size of her bust, but - " I rammed my fist up into his Adam's apple. He grunted and stumbled back. "- by the strength of her right hook.

Do you really think he untied you? .. He was just checking his kids handiwork.

You want to keep looking?" I asked. "Yeah, maybe." "I'll leave you to it, then." I started for the door. "No." He said it quickly, and reached for my arm, but stopped before he touched me. "I mean, if you're tired, sure, but you don't have to." Derek doesn't want her to leave ♥