I sat down and worked out what I wanted to give the reporter. I knew I needed to give up a few things that could be verified, to prove my story was re...l. Then I’d hint that there was more if they dug for it, and that I could give more information once I was ready. But what I gave up needed to not have my name on it if at all possible, which meant the CPS investigation was out. It also meant the attempt by the MilTech executives the year before was also out. That left me with only the various. Miss Karen." I really don't like you, Carol. I especially don't like you dripping on mynice floor like you are. My suggestion is that you ask permission to get atowel to dry it off."Her mother would just die. Her heart would break and she would just die."Miss Karen, may I get a towel and dry this floor off?" Hmmm," Karen replied. "I suppose. The guest bathroom is behind you. Get atowel out of the closet."Carol turned to look behind her, then slowly rose, feeling her knees shaking. She. So aisa bolte hi didi ne uske mobile me se wo photo open krke mujhe dikhaye aur boli kiDidi: kya hai ye? Tune mujse juth kaha tha ki teri relationship decent hai teri gf ke sath.Mai to pasina pasina ho gaya aur didi chali gayi gussa karke. Mai sidha didi ke room me gaya aur unse maafi maangi aur promise kiya ki mai unse kuchh nahi hide karunga. Half an hour gidgidaya uske baad didi maani. But us din se maine notice kiya ki didi ka mujhe dekhne ka tarika thoda badal sa gaya tha.Ye incident ke. . Let's see -- half of .700 would be .350. So then -- .375. No, no, I wasn't going to hit .375; or .350, either. Not even if Emmy Shreve was right there in the dugout, boffing me between plate appearances!But I felt a wonderful confidence that, now, I was going to hit. I was going to move up some in the batting order, when Stu Little eventually noticed that I was, reliably and consistently, pounding the be-Jesus out of the ball!And it was all Emmy Shreve's doing. Nobody was going to convince me.