Sarah lay next to Frank, thinking about Anne’s story as the first rays of dawn came pouring into their room. To lose a child to the seedy world of drugs, and then compound it by him killing his wife was unimaginable. She glanced over at Frank who was asleep. She’d been lucky with her son. Back in L.A., drugs were rampant in the schools. Had he ever tried any? She wasn’t such a fool to think he hadn’t been tempted, and he’d probably smoked more than his fair share of joints growing up. But the hard stuff—c***k, acid, angel dust, and h****n—that she was reasonably sure he hadn’t tried.
Anne was caught in a nightmare between her love for her son and her husband. Sarah wondered how Anne would survive if she went to court to testify for her son. It was a lose-lose for Anne every way she looked
