"I am sorry for your terrible loss, my girl."His voice conveyed true sympathy and Theresa, the rage knocked out of her, had the decency to blush."I am...sorry, too," she wheezed."Will you let her stand, please?" Joerg asked politely. "She will not attack you again, on my word."He cast Theresa a significant look, and her eyes widened in understanding. The old soldier raised the tip of his staff from her throat and offered his hand, to help her up. The gesture thoroughly flustered Theresa. She. Saying she’d been in bed all day, which was true, they forced her to get up and, ignoring her protests, made her put on some clothes and come with them. At first she tried to be a good sport and get into the spirit of the party. But the laughter and good times only annoyed her. After a few beers, some cheap wine, and a little weed, she was feeling slightly drunk, maybe a little stoned, but definitely more miserable than ever. Not wanting to be a wet blanket, she grabbed a beer and wandered. More

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