Times and Seasons by Beverly LaHaye

for the place where the man pointed. Then laughter spat out, and the guard doubled over. The inmates around them snickeredwith bitter superiority. Mark felt like an idiot. They were playing him, he thought. They didn’t understand, but they would as soon as his mother came and did something about this mess he was in. And if she didn’t, his father would. He knew they wouldn’t let him stay here another night.
    His mother had jerked him out of public schools because he’d been hanging with people like this. If she’d known what he’d been doing in Knoxville, she would have had every lawyer in town working to keep him from going there again. No, she would never sit still for this.
    But he could do nothing except go along now as they marched them into the facility.

C HAPTER
Fifteen
    Tory had neither the time nor the energy to attend Sylvia’s luncheon presentation at Cathy’s church—but she’d had so little opportunity to hear about Sylvia’s work that she and Brenda felt obligated to go.
    Tory hadn’t wanted to leave Hannah at home, so she had brought her with her. She was exhausted from battling Hannah’s ear infections and bronchitis the night before, but this afternoon they had sessions with the physical therapist, the respiratory therapist, and the occupational therapist.
    She had brought Hannah’s stroller and hoped the baby would sleep through the meeting. But before she had taken her seat, she heard her name shouted over the ladies filling the room.
    “Tory Sullivan!”
    She looked up and saw Amy Martin, an old friend who lived next door to her in the duplex where she and Barry lived before they’d had children. “Amy!” she said, and threw her arms around the woman. “I didn’t know you went to church here.”
    “Six years,” the woman said. “Look at you. You’re so thin and perfect, just like you always were.” She bent down to the stroller and smiled at Hannah. “A baby? What is this? Your third?”
    Tory grew tense. “Yes, my third.”
    “Oh, what a sweetie!” She reached into the stroller and tickled Hannah’s stomach. The child’s mouth was open, and her tongue was hanging again. Tory wished she would pull it back in. “How old is she?”
    Tory thought of lying, then was instantly ashamed. “Fifteen months.”
    “Fifteen?” The word came out a little weaker, and Amy eyed the baby again.
    “She has Down’s Syndrome,” Tory said quietly.
    Amy raised back up, her face stricken. “Oh, Tory! That’s awful. I’m so sorry, honey.”
    Tory didn’t know what she’d expected. Maybe the usual change of subject, or some benign words about how Down’s Syndrome kids were such sweet children. Those things always made her angry, because she didn’t like stereotypes any more than dismissal. But the sorrow was a new one. No one had expressed sadness over Hannah’s birth in a long time.
    Brenda stepped up to the stroller and found Hannah’s pacifier. She gently put it in her mouth. “She’s a precious child,” she said. “Tory is a world-class mother. No child with Down’s Syndrome was ever more blessed.” She smiled that smile that instantly put people at ease. “I’m Tory’s neighbor, Brenda Dodd.”
    “Amy Martin,” the woman said. She turned her sorrowfilled eyes back to Tory. “We need to get together sometime and catch up, Tory. Over lunch, maybe.”
    There it was. The dismissal. Tory realized that Amy couldn’t win. Anything she said would have made Tory angry. This wasn’t her friend’s problem. It was hers.
    “Let’s do that,” she said, then looked up and saw that the chairman of the ladies’ group was heading to the stage. Sylvia was about to be introduced.
    Brenda took a seat near the back, but Tory felt tears choking her. She lifted Hannah out of her stroller. “I have to change a diaper,” she whispered to Brenda. “I’ll be back.”
    Brenda watched her retreat. Tory knew her neighbor read every crushing thought on her face and would have done