Wood. His exploits and escapes are in every body's mouth. He pushed her small hand into his jeans. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. But the aunt seized her in her arms and rocked with her. It was in fact the first embrace of motherhood she had ever known. It could only mean one thing—that her foster daughter was both a whore and a murderer! When Sheila confronted her about it, it was five in the morning. “Some day,” she answered. ” She kissed him passionately, and ran lightly upstairs.
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