" "They match the flowers in your blue dress with the ruffle. Whydon't you go put it on and try the shoes? I want to see how you doin them." He was surprised, because she had never taken an interest in hisdressing before. He wondered if it was such a good idea to changeand then appear before her. She was telling him to go dress, and itjust wasn't like her. He knew there were times he would have likedto dress when she was home. Maybe she was getting more tolerant ofit. He decided to go change as she'd suggested. As he was putting his bra on he wondered if this was the rightthing to do. Kayla had never wanted to see him dressed like thisbefore. Why did she want to now? He wondered what she had in mind. He finished dressing and tried the shoes, and found he was havinga lot of trouble walking in them. He thought about taking them offand wearing the white flats he normally wore with this dress. Butin the end he awkwardly made his way down the hall, using the wallto steady himself. He. The cameraman panned away from her, zooming in for a moment on the detective who was still talking and he grabbed the chair harder, a moan coming from between his lips. "No!" he yelled at the television. "Bring her back!"He didn't hear a word that was said, though he didn't care for he was taping it from one of his other televisions. She'd been there, she'd actually been right in front of him. He kept his eyes glued to the television, even as his mind retreated to the day he'd first seen her.He'd been twelve, visiting his uncle with his parents. His mother's brother hadn't every really seemed 'all there', but his mother loved him anyway and they went to his home in the city every year. This year had been different, though he wasn't quite sure how, until he heard the screaming. Running from his room, he'd gone down the stairs, seeing his father pull his mother away from his uncle who was cowering in a corner, a large bundle at his feet.It fell over as he watched, a hand, the skin.
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