I started having nightmares. They didn't have anything to do with her, but it was just another thing piled on top of me. I started dreaming about Juli..., a six-year-old girl I had known when I was fourteen. She had been killed one night when I had failed to protect her as I told her I always would. I hadn't thought about her for years. Victoria had gotten me over that. But now, I was having very realistic nightmares where Julie was begging me to help her ... except she wasn't six years old, but. After I have it, I always feel guilty. Like I could have donesomething to prevent me becoming an orphan. Tonight was no different. Isat up, put my head in my hands and cried as if I were the samefrightened four-year-old again. As silly as it sounded, I carried ahope that I would find my parents at the plantation, but I knew itwasn't going to happen. They were dead. My dream was just that: adream. A nice dream, a wonderful dream that allowed me to feel mymother's love again but did she really. Being able to please a husband with her efforts in the kitchen was important to Jo, and those early years when she was trying out recipes on me were super fun. I used to get a kick out of making her blush from the compliments I would bestow on her cooking regardless of it being a hit or a catastrophe. For some reason, I had forgotten to do that lately. Tonight, however, I dove into my old habits with gusto. I forced forkful after forkful of macaroni into my mouth. I concentrated all my efforts. Not wanting to catch a cold you slip into your denim jeans and eagerly pull a faded t-shirt over you slender torso. Your phone bursts into life again, wondering what all the commotion is about you dash over to the bedside table and pick up the wailing device.Instinctively you hold your thumb on the home button until the device unlocks. As the screen bursts into life you casually glance down, your eyes widen in surprise as you greeted with an abundance of notifications. For some perplexing.