All she knew was that she felt worthless. Her voice cracked as she answered the phone, "Hello?" Mom?" Came a familiar voice over the speaker."Michael!... Christine suddenly perked up as she recognized her son. "I'm so glad you called. How have you been? How's the college life treating you?" It's going good," Michael answered. "It's a little harder than I thought but nothing I can't handle. Are you all right? You sound like you've been crying." It's ... It's nothing," she lied. "Are you getting. She had been at boarding school in Hong Kong but was now coming to live with her new family. Her name was Jasmine and what a pretty little flower she was. Half western and half Chinese and believe me she had the best attributes of both cultures. She was petite but not overly slim, long dark straight hair, the most deep and beautiful eyes you could ever swim in, olive complexion and 16 years old. Jazz, as we started to call her, was quiet, shy and ultra obedient. At first she wouldn’t talk. More

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