Chapter Three Awakening to the sunlight filtering in between the open blinds up on the window and the opening of the hall door, she reflexively...rolls over on her back, her mind cluttered as her breasts ache while she cups them with the palms of her hands. Trying to comprehend her predicament, her shoulders and hips also ache, but obviously aren’t dislocated. Glancing toward the psychiatrist and the three attendants stepping toward the bed, all as usual dressed in their white garb. They were an odd couple, but no odder than many. I was happy that they were happy.I walked through the parking lot, smiling to myself when I saw a familiar plain tan car drive slowly down the road. I dug into my bag to check if my phone was still on, and it was. Then I walked to the closest street and waited for good old Bob Foster to pull up."Hi, Sheriff," I said when he rolled down his window."Afternoon, Sam. Um, pretty day, isn't it."This didn't sound good. Sheriff Foster had never seemed. More

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