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while.”
    Sarah lay motionless, digesting the words. “Well, then,” she finally said, her voice strengthening as she took a deep breath. “I guess I need to get out of here, don’t I?”
    “You get out of here when you’re well,” Kate replied. “Which means a lot of rehab. Think you can do it?”
    “If I could take care of the farm after Mom died, I can learn to walk again,” Sarah replied without a hint of self-pity. “How long do they think it will take?”
    “They don’t know,” Kate said. “It’ll be mostly up to you. Rehab goes as fast as you want it to go. It’s going to involve a lot of physical therapy, but I have a feeling that’s not going to be a problem for you.”
    “Can I do it from home?” Sarah asked. “That way I can at least feed the animals, and by spring I should be able to do the rest of it.” She forced a painful grin. “I mean, it’s not like the fields are doing anything all winter.”
    Despite the girl’s brave words, Kate could see that Sarah knew she wouldn’t be going home. “Someone is looking after your animals,” Kate assured her. “And I’m afraid that for now, at least, you won’t be able to go home, except to pack some clothes. Once you’re out of rehab, you’ll be going to a foster home.”
    Sarah stared at her. “A foster home,” she breathed. “For how long?”
    Kate saw no other option than to tell her directly. “Until you’re eighteen.”
    “Eighteen!” Sarah echoed. “I can’t—” She abruptly cut off herwords, seemed to collect herself for a moment, then spoke again. “Is that what Dad wants me to do?”
    Kate nodded.
    Sarah sank back into her pillows, staring at the ceiling.
    “We’ll find you a nice home,” Kate went on. “With a good family.”
    Sarah took a couple of deep breaths and wiped her cheeks with the tissue. “Near my dad?”
    “Absolutely,” Kate said, even though she hadn’t yet identified any family—let alone a good one—that would be willing to take Sarah in. “I’m going to try to find people in Warwick, near where your father will be. That way at least you’ll be able to see him.” Sarah said nothing, and finally Kate stood up. “It’s going to be all right, Sarah. I promise you.” When the girl still said nothing, Kate pulled one of her cards from her purse, added her home phone number to it, and laid it on the stand next to the bed. “I’ll be coming back often,” she promised. “And I’m going to find the right place for you. You just concentrate on getting well so we can get you out of here, okay?” Without even thinking about what she was doing, Kate Williams leaned over and kissed Sarah’s forehead, then picked up her briefcase and started toward the door.
    “Thank you,” Sarah abruptly said just as Kate was about to pull the door shut behind her.
    Kate turned back, smiled at Sarah, and finally pulled the door closed. But even as she walked down the hall toward her next destination, she realized her card wasn’t all she’d left in Sarah Crane’s room.
    A little bit of her heart had stayed there, too.

Chapter Three
    T he gray facade of the Lakeside State Penitentiary at Warwick made the chill of the late fall morning feel even colder than it was, and Sarah Crane felt an icy shiver of apprehension as she followed Kate Williams toward the single small door that led from the parking area into the prison itself. How can my father be in here? she wondered, and reached for Kate’s hand as much to reassure herself as to steady the painful gait the surgeries on her hip and leg had left her with. Get used to it, she told herself. It’s not going away—not ever—so just get used to it.
    As if she’d read Sarah’s mind, Kate slowed her pace, squeezed Sarah’s hand, and gave her a reassuring smile.
    A man in a uniform waved them toward the metal detector, and Kate signed them in, put her purse on the conveyor belt, and stepped gingerly through the archway. When the officer motioned Sarah