She looked haggard and tired, having lost at least 20 pounds and she was never a big woman.Her smile was warm enough as she hugged me, thanking me for...my sacrifice in her behalf.Mumbling something that it was okay, I saw Megan standing behind her.That was not the girl I remembered from the pictures they had sent us.This was a little ferocious fox. She was the American variant of a punk rocker, at least in dress code.Maria and I still are frequent visitors of the underground clubs that play that. It's hard to explain." I started digging into my waffle. "Kind of a long story."Her voice dropped to a husky alto. "Go on." She looked at me, her mouth quirking into a smile."Remember the whole seizure thing?" I remember being told about it. I wasn't around when it was happening." She made a face. "Except for that one time." Yeah," I said. "Anyway, apparently every seizure I had..." I cleared my throat. "'Branded' the people around me." Branded? Like we're cattle?" More or less. It's marked. More

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