12
Anneliese sat on the window seat of her darkening bedroom, locked her arms around her knees and rocked slightly.
Her grandfather had been a very powerful and influential man and still some of that lingered. Even with his years, he was active and could get not only things done, but he could twist a few miles of red tape to get what he wanted.
Knowing that he’d leave no stone unturned until she was safe again gave her hope.
Afghanistan.
The thread on her grandfather’s and her lives had released a torrent of distant memories that seemed almost to belong to a stranger. For years she learned to cope with the nightmares and the fragments of horror that haunted her dreams.
But now, it was as if the vivid colors and scents of that day threatened to overwhelm her, when the secure life she
