As the couple left the room, Edith smiled. She liked this David Wilson. He would be much better for her daughter than that selfish son-of-a-gun she'd married. Edith never had liked that Bob Mathews much. He was too smooth, too good to be true. She sighed and wished she could have prevented the pain that man had caused her daughter.

Sara came back into the room. "I'm going up to bed now." She went over and kissed her mother and father. "Good night."

"Good night, dear," replied her mother, who smiled inwardly as she watched her daughter. Yes, she was glad she'd invited David to dinner.

That night, as Sara crawled into her childhood bed, she felt ... well, almost happy.




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