Her eyes flashed and she slowly began to change. "You will NOT go near that creature! No one will coruperate with HIM NO ONE!"
Kyle managed to grab her by the arm and draw her to him. He held her as best as he could through the bars.
"What arn't you telling us about him shari? What is it about him that has you so mad, so scared?" he muttered stroking her hair to calm her down.
"My third foster father is here. He's a genitesit. He...he..." tears streamed down her face. "My foster mother was in a car accident and was dieing. She was three months pragnant. I loved her. She was a mother to me. So I had them transplant the fetus into me. He wanted the baby to look like me and not her so he took samples when I was out from the surgery..." She choked and couldn't finish.
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It is not the words a man selects or even the tone of his inflection, but rather the heart and soul of the words that communicate true meaning.
From The Outlaw's Twin Sister by Stephen Bly
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