Sexual Abuse
Staring out from the front page is a picture of Mom, and I swear she's looking me right in the eyes. The caption reads, "Attempted Murderer To Be Given Parole."
She began dreaming about him in the dark dream, the one with the endless tunnels, stone walls that slid by cold under her fingertips, invisible because it was too dark to see. Hand outstretched, she would move forward, never knowing if she was progressing toward an exit or if at some point she had turned around and begun moving back toward the place she had come from, a place she could not remember.
She began dreaming about him in the dark dream, the one with the endless tunnels, stone walls that slid by cold under her fingertips, invisible because it was too dark to see. Hand outstretched, she would move forward, never knowing if she was progressing toward an exit or if at some point she had turned around and begun moving back toward the place she had come from, a place she could not remember.
If he's guilty, he'll probably go to jail," Mom pointed out. "At the very least, he'll lose his job and maybe even his license to teach."
"That's if he's guilty," Dad said with emphasis.
"What do you mean 'if'?" Cody exploded.
"There's no if about it! Liberty said he tried to rape her. Don't you think she would know?
