I held Sister Gwen’s hand as she led me through the orphanage.  Even at ten years old I was almost as tall as the old woman, but just because I had the height of an adult didn’t mean I felt like one.  “Sister Gwen,” I whispered, my voice a tiny squeak.  “I’m scared.”

“I know you are, Ronnie,” she said, and her voice had a husky edge to it.  I could ( Read more... )