Molly Doogan sat on her bedroom floor next to her opened dresser drawer unaware of the warm tears sliding down her flushed cheeks.
"No! Please! Not again!" she wanted to shout, but couldn't. If her parents heard her, they'd come to her room, and then they'd want to know what was wrong. Then she'd have to tell them about what she'd found before and kept hidden in her drawer—about the things that were happening to her that she couldn't explain.
And now these. She looked at the pebbles in one hand and the small leather pouch in the other.
It was all too confusing. Things like this aren't supposed to happen in real life. But what was real and what wasn't? She wasn't sure any more. She felt like she was living in two different dimensions.
And all because of that night—that night she and her dad sat in the car waiting for her mother…
"Your mom's really late tonight."
Molly noticed her father eye the Volvo's dashboard clock for only about the two hundredth time. She could tell he was bored, too. But nowhere near as bored as she was. Forever—that's how long it felt they'd been waiting in the medical clinic's parking lot. Forever and a day.