Tilting her head to the side, Toni watched as Laura began filling her briefcase. "Laura, what are you doing? It's only four."

"I'm leaving early."

"You okay?" Toni said, stepping into the room. "You look pale."

"I'm not feeling very good," Laura whispered, coming around the desk. Dropping her keys in Toni's hand, she asked, "Do you mind driving?"

"No, of course not," Toni said, taking the attache from her hand. "Come on. Let's get you home."

A short time later, Toni pulled into the driveway. Laura mindlessly climbed out of the car, and appearing as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders, she trudged up the path and into the house.

After grabbing the briefcases and Laura's laptop, Toni followed, but stopped briefly at her Jeep to kick the tire the breakdown crew had fixed earlier that day. Happy to hear the solid thump when her foot hit the rubber, she continued on her way, almost bumping into Laura as she was coming back out the door.

"I've got your stuff," Toni said, holding up the cases.

"No, I need to go to the store. I forgot I was supposed to get groceries tonight."

"Don't be ridiculous," Toni said, blocking Laura's path. "You're not feeling well, and I'm sure we can find something to eat. If not, we can just order take-away."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Now, go get comfortable and I'll make you some tea."

Toni waited until Laura disappeared up the stairs before going to put the kettle on. While the water heated, she looked in the refrigerator for something to eat only to find barren glass shelves staring back at her. "Looks like it's take-away," she mumbled as she went over and opened the junk drawer.

Overflowing with gadgets, pens, paper bags and everything in between, she tugged at the wad of folded menus that had somehow found their way to the back. Managing to break them free, Toni scanned the pages and sighed. The faded pictures of entrees didn't look at all appetizing, and the fact that she'd have to open the door to a stranger made her heart race. Tossing the menus on the counter, she went about making the tea, and a few minutes later, she carefully carried a steaming cup of Darjeeling to Laura's room and rapped lightly on the door.

"Come on in, Toni."

The small bedside lamp provided only a minimal amount of light, so after slowly stepping over Laura's discarded clothing covering the floor, Toni placed the cup on the nightstand. Seeing no sign of the woman except for the lump under the covers and a splash of auburn hair on the pillow, Toni said, "Um...I brought you some tea if you're up for it."

"Thanks," Laura said, pushing down the duvet to reveal her flushed face. Seeing Toni's brooding expression, she asked, "You okay?"

For a moment, Toni didn't say a word, and then hesitantly she reached over and placed her hand on Laura's forehead. A few seconds later, she pulled it away. "I'm fine. You're the one with a fever. Did you take anything?"

"Yeah, a few minutes ago. Did you find the menus?"

"Yes, but I wasn't sure what you felt like eating."

"Soup would be nice."

"Soup?"

"Yeah."

"What kind?"

"Chicken, of course," Laura said through a weak grin.

"I don't know if there's a place that has that on the menu."

"No worries, Toni," Laura whispered, rolling to her side as she pulled the duvet over her. "I'll be fine."

"Can I help you, dear?"

Toni spun around and lowered her eyes. A woman barely five feet in height, her face wrinkled and her gray hair pulled tightly in a bun was standing only a few feet away wearing a large gap-toothed smile as she gazed back at Toni.

"Were...were you talking to me?" Toni asked.

"Yes, dear. You look a bit lost."

"Oh, um...I've never been here before."

"Well then, welcome to Lenders Corner Market. We're not as big as all the rest, but we do try our best," she chirped. "I'm Gertrude, and I'm the official greeter."

"Official greeter?"

Taking a step closer, Gertrude lowered her voice. "Actually, my grandson owns the store. I just come in every now and then to keep myself busy. He hates it, but I'm old, and he can't say no."

Her words went unheard as Toni looked around the store, her eyes darting from one aisle to the next, all of which were filled with customers. A few came closer than Toni would have liked, and she flinched when one brushed against her.

"Pardon me for saying this, dear, but you do seem a bit jumpy. Is there anything wrong?" Gertrude asked.

"It's just a bit crowded in here. That's all. I think maybe I should come back later," Toni said as she turned and headed toward the exit.

"Oh, please don't go," Gertrude said, shuffling to keep up. "I'll help you if you'd like. I know where everything is, and you'll be in and out in no time."

Turning, Toni asked, "Why would you want to do that?"

"Can you think of a reason why I shouldn't?"

Toni jerked back her head as she stared at the woman. "What did you say?"

"Oh my, it wasn't my intention to get you angry, dear. I'm sorry."

"No. No, I'm not angry. It's just that I have a friend who says that all the time."

"And do you ever give her an answer?"

"No, not normally," Toni said with a snort.

"Well then, it appears that we have some shopping to do," Gertrude said, clapping her hands together. "Now, do you have a list?"

Pulling a take-away menu from her pocket, Toni pointed to the margins where she had scratched some notes. Scanning the items, Gertrude said, "Looks to me like you're making chicken soup."

"I have a friend who's not feeling well."

"Have you ever made it before?"

"No, I copied that from a cookbook."

Crumpling up the menu, Gertrude stuffed it in her pocket. Standing as straight as her frail frame would allow, she said, "I have a much better recipe than this. Follow me. I'll explain as we shop, and don't dawdle. I believe you have a sick friend you need to take care of."

Padding into the kitchen Sunday afternoon, Laura opened the refrigerator. "Is there any soup left?"

"No, you finished it off last night," Toni said, looking up from the morning paper.

"Oh," Laura said, sitting down. "Thanks for making it and for going shopping. That couldn't have been too easy."

"It wasn't, but I managed."

Concerned with Toni's monotone delivery, Laura reached over and touched her arm. "I mean it. Thanks for taking care of me and making the soup. It was delicious."

"You're welcome," Toni said, yanking her arm away.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," Toni said, folding the paper and tossing it on the table.

"I'm serious."

Exhaling, Toni leaned back in her chair. "Let me guess. You want to know why I have a problem in stores. Don't you?"

"Yes, I do."

With a huff, Toni got to her feet. "Well, that's too fucking bad! Stop trying to get into my head. I told you about the food, and that's it!"

"But-"

"There aren't any buts! I don't want to talk about it...ever! Not with you, or a shrink, or the chaplain down the fucking street. It's none of their business, and it's certainly not yours!"

Shocked, Laura watched as Toni stormed from the room, jumping in her chair at the sound of the bedroom door closing with a bang. "Shit," Laura muttered to herself. "What the hell just happened?"

Thousands of people across the country did it every Sunday without even thinking, but Toni wasn't them...and she forgot that. Sipping her tea, she had picked up the Sunday newspaper without giving it a thought, and that was her mistake and her trigger. The pages were filled with violence. Horrible stories about horrible people and their horrible crimes, and in her head, steel cell doors banged shut, women screamed, and keys on long chains rattled as baritone voices shouted threats that eventually would turn into reality.

Toni threw herself on the floor in the corner of the room. Burying her head in her hands, she tried to quiet the sounds that haunted her, praying that Laura wouldn't find her this way. This was her worst. This was shaking and pale and terrified. This was tears that wouldn't stop, and pain so deep inside her psyche, she dared not move for fear her heart would give out. This was when she prayed to be back on the block where no one could hear her scream. God, how she wanted to scream.

"That doesn't make sense."

"You're telling me!"

"Laura, you had to say something or do something for her to fly off the handle like that."

"Abby, I'm telling you, I thanked her for taking care of me, and when I started to ask her about her fear of people, she tossed down the newspaper, screamed at me and then stormed out of the room."

"And you and she have been getting along okay?"

"Yes, I told you that! It's been great. We haven't had any problems until this afternoon."

Sipping her coffee, Abby leaned back on the sofa, replaying what Laura had told her in her mind. Sitting up straight, she said, "Christ, I'm being stupid!"

"What?"

"Stay here. I'll be right back," Abby said as she jumped up and ran in the direction of the kitchen. Moments later, she returned, carrying a newspaper and a black marker. Sitting back down, she began scanning the pages.

"What are you doing?" Laura asked.

"Just give me a minute," Abby said, drawing black circles around articles as she scanned a few pages.

"Abby, what the hell are you doing? Looking for a job?"

Capping the marker, Abby tossed it on the coffee table along with the newspaper. "She forgot."

"What? Who? Abby, you're talking in riddles."

"When you first told me about Toni, you said that she was very specific about what was allowed in her flat, right?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Besides choosing the food that could be brought in, you also said that her friend Kris told you that Toni didn't read newspapers or magazines, and she didn't own a TV or radio. Yes?"

"What's that got to do with anything?"

With a sigh, Abby said, "Oh, Laura, she made herself a world she could survive in. Without newspapers or television, Toni didn't have to read or hear about the atrocities that take place almost daily. You told me that she owns a lot of books. Let me guess. They're all classics, written long before writers felt the need to shock or awe."

"How'd you know?"

"Because they don't hold any surprises for her. She's probably read them dozens of times, virtually memorizing them, so when she turns the page, she knows what to expect."

"So?"

"This morning, Toni sat down like the rest of the bloody population, poured herself a cup of tea and began to read the Sunday paper, totally forgetting that she can't do that."

"Why not?"

Handing Laura the newspaper, Abby said, "I haven't even made it to page three and there are at least a half-dozen articles about murder, rape or other acts of violence. You and I have become numb to those types of stories. We grimace at the details and wonder how people can do that sort of thing, but Toni lived with those people. She spent four years amongst the most violent and vile women this country has to offer, housed in a prison run by bastards who made up their own rules and their own punishments. When Toni picked up the paper and began to read those headlines, all those memories, all those terrible, terrible memories came rushing back."

"So when I brought up the market-"

"It had nothing to do with you, Laura. Nothing at all. She was most likely unraveling before you ever stepped foot in the kitchen."

"Unraveling?"