I couldn’t think of any other reason and the others didn’t seem to be the ones to say it. I looked at Cupps and said, “He wanted you all to hims...lf. He didn’t want you to go wandering should he not return for a long time.”She frowned at that. “Fucker,” she said under her breath. Then she looked at me. “I need this changed then. I need him out of my life.”I nodded and asked, “Do you want to do this here or...” I trailed off and remembered all the transparent walls of the house. “Or, we can do it. I spent hours and hours at the hospital, in great pain, and one of the MANY people who talked to me over that time, picked my phone up off the table beside gurney and tapped that phone number into it. I suspect, as you probably do, that he had some personal animosity against the mafia and picked me out to tell his tale because I was present, and nothing more."Then he said, 'let me tell you a story... ' The substance of that story I repeated, as close to word for word, as possible to Mr. Hudson,. "She opened her eyes, stopped fighting and buried her face in my chest, weeping almost hysterically. I held her, stroked her face and head, cuddled her body tightly against me for warmth and security, and let her cry it out – whatever it was.My chest was wet with her tears and when she felt the wetness she sniffled a couple of times, wiped her eyes, and looked up into my face. "I'm so sorry, Kevin. I was having a terrible dream. Some boys from high school were holding me down and tearing my. Britney was having the hardest time of it; her vision of finally having a shot at a State Championship — now that Angela had moved on — had been shattered by the need to keep a low profile and not attract attention. She still ran, but only for personal enjoyment and fitness, not in competition. She couldn't bring herself to give less than one hundred percent, and a black girl appearing out of nowhere to dominate the local field could not help but attract attention. She was more than a little.