Chapter 15

“You bring that girl home. She doesn’t belong in San Francisco, away from her father.”

“I’m going to help her, Mom. Anyway I can.”

“Don’t let her use you, Daniel. Don’t let yourself be hurt.”

He nodded. “I love her. I need to help her.”

“I know. But she’s always going to come running to you. You know that.”

Daniel smiled. “I hope she does.”

* * * *

Carol looked awful. Her full, blonde curls had been hacked off, leaving a crown of straw-colored knots on the top of her head. Her complexion, always light, looked yellow in the poor conditions, but her eyes, though sunken, still sparkled. Her clothes were ratty and filthy, caked with dirt. All in all, she looked more like a refugee than a prisoner in the San Francisco County Jail.

She stood when she saw Daniel, rushing to the bars. “Daniel. You came.” Her thin fingers snuck out, reaching for his.

“Of course. As soon as I got the letter. How long have you been here?”

“Three months.”

“On what charges?” he asked, alarmed.