After a few seconds of peace, she had to ask, "What was it made of?"Samantha stared out the side window. "The stuff that dreams are made of."= = =They...were coming to Louise King's off-ramp. It would be more difficult to keep the girl in the car, let alone get her out of it and into a decent home. "Samanth-"The girl told her quite firmly, "It's Sam! Don't call me Samantha. Not ever again."Mrs. Louise King nodded. "Like your father. I'll respect that." She glanced over to the petit teen, "Even. You are more upset by this than you were when you split up with Karen. How long ago was that now?’ ‘Erm, four years,’ Peter said, rolling his eyes up. ‘Really? Anyway, whatever. You’re practically shaking with, I don’t know. Anger. Sadness. I don’t know. All sorts of stuff probably.’ ‘Your point?’ ‘My point is, you’re more upset over this misunderstanding with Katie than I ever saw you over the split with Karen. Which means you care a damn lot more about Katie than you did Karen.’ Peter paused,. More

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