Her breathing had increased to short sharp intakes of breath, as she stared at her surroundings. Her glare eventually came to rest on me.“Easy child... you’re safe here. No one will be able to hurt you while I’m here,” I told her in as reassuring a voice as possible. She took several more shuddering breaths before settling down a little.“Who are you, where am I, and how did I get here?” she asked in a near whisper from a very dry throat.“Would you like some water?” I asked.“Maybe ... you haven’t. I asked, several times. Eventually, she sank into kind of a depression. She had a past and possibly a secret that weighed on her mind. I took her hands in mine and told her there was nothing she could have done before that would make me care for her any less. This led to a bawling, sobbing tale of her childhood.Growing up, it seems her mother was divorced with a nine, ten and eleven year old at home, very little money and mom working 2 jobs to keep a roof over their heads. Her mother had made a. More

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