” “By all means,” Brendon answered. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. She receded into the entryway, opening her palm and gesturing as if there were an imaginary red carpet rolled out for visitors. Do not let her think worse of me than I deserve,—or even so ill. FOREWORD Forever Fifteen was born of a dream I had in 2002, a dream that was part nightmare. Be kind to her.
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