''I'll be coming home soon, Mommy,'' she said, her
small voice wavering over the phone. She wrapped the cord
around her fingers, unwinding them, only to repeat the
motion.
   The voice that answered had certaintny in it, as though
the woman knew otherwise.   ''You can take your time,
honey.''  She could hear the saccharine in the woman's
voice.
    ''Will you have my bed ready for me?''
    ''Sure, honey. I'm putting on your sheets with the
flowers, just how you like them.''
     She nodded, knowing the woman had probably thrown them
away within hours after she'd left the house. ''The beds
here are mean. I don't like the covers.''
    ''You won't have to worry about mean beds when you come
home, darling. I just want you to try a little harder.
Maybe you just haven't had enough time to adjust...''
    She nodded and closed her eyes. Something wet slid down
her face. ''Yes, Mommy... It's just that I really want to
come home...''
    Someone was knocking on the door. She peaked and saw
Grace, with her wild red curls and steely green eyes,
banging her fist on the small shatter-proof glass window in
the door, above the handle.
    ''I need to go, mommy. Someone wants to use the phone,
and I've used it long already," she said reluctantly,
fingering the rain drops on the window pane. The glass was
cold.
    ''Of course, honey. The other girls want to use the
phone too.''
    ''Can you please come take me home? You can tell them
I'm alright now; I promise I'll be good. The girls here are
mean like the beds...''
    ''Honey, what about the other girls? Don't they want to
use the phone?''
    She sniffed and wiped her face with her blue
papery-sleeve. ''Yes, Mommy.''
    ''That's a good girl. See you soon.''
    ''I love you, Mommy.''
    The call had already been terminated.