. something flowed slowly over her back around the edges of whatever was there. "Hold this, please," he said, placing a glass of something cold in her...hands. "Can you smell it, my little sweet one?" She could, orange juice but so fresh. She longed for a taste. Then she felt a straw against her lips. "Open, my little sweet one. Take a sip." It was fantastic. Whether it was the quality of the juice or not having her sight taken away, it was the best she had ever tasted. She heard some music. Just when I thought I'd lost her, she said,"Who are you? How do you know these things? What do you want?" She sounded so profoundly sad, I wanted to reach through the phone line and comfort her."I'm apparently the same guy that got you to arrange for Jennifer to see Doctor Abrams in New York, before she flew to Sweden to spend the last few months, with her mother, Sherrie, and her grandfather, Jerry. I'm the same guy that took you to see 'Mama Mia, ' and 'Les Miz, ' on Broadway, and booked the. More

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