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Andrea was at her desk shuffling an enormous stack of papers, reading, initialing and then moving each to the next stack. She stirred her coffee absently while she studied a paper she held aloft in her right hand. When her phone beeped, she picked up. "Ms Whiting, May I... oh, yes Ms. Masters. The Dunning children are coming and will be here in about a half hour. Your office? Yes, I'll be right up."
* * * * *
"Come in Andrea."
"Is this about the Hastings case? I'm sorry I just didn't..."
"No, that is being settled now. Sharon is handling that one. Andrea I'm concerned. I know about... well, what you told me happened to you when you were younger. You are very often right and do excellent work but sometimes I think you may just... Do you understand what I mean?"
"Ms Masters, yes I was abused. I told you about it. I really want to help children. I know what it's like. I can sense people; I know the ones."
Ms. Masters smiled. "Yes, you usually do have very good intuition. But we must never forget, it's up to the courts to decide. Enough said?"
"Yes, Ms. Masters."
"The Dunnings will be here in a few minutes. You need to go to the visiting room to supervise the visit.
* * * * *
Jill was sitting in a small plastic chair next to an orange crate of stuffed animals. She was absently fingering a brown teddy bear's paw when Timmy came in. He spotted her and tore across the room.
"Jill! Jill! Oh! I'm so happy to see you," he bubbled, starting to hug her.
Jill straightened and stiffened. "Hi Timmy; are you ok?"
"Well, I miss you, terrible. I'm worried about you. Are you ok?"
Jill nodded slowly. Tim tipped his head as he squinted one eye shut, "Really... for sure?"
A tear rolled down one cheek then she reached for Tim and hugged him close, "I'm ok," she whispered.
* * * * *
"They're in here," said Andrea to Sam and Sherry as she took the lead into the visiting room.
Sam stared at Andrea. "Excuse me but may we be alone with them?"
"Sorry, Mr. Dunning, but with the allegations, supervision is standard."
* * * * *
Sherry squeezed Sam's hand as they walked to their Ford Escort. "Sam, oh, I... It's like talking to someone elses children, like strangers. Like they're watching every second with tape recorders or something, just looking for the simplest gesture. I'm afraid to hug them and I'm afraid not to... What will they think?... It's awful. I hate it!"
"Hon, I know. I feel the same. It's like they're peering out the windows right now with their notebooks seeing if they can see anything... abnormal."
"And Jill, Timmy. They almost act like they don't know us. I could just die. It's awful."
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