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possibility, but I’m pretty sure I’m not.”
    â€œDenim,” Mrs. Mitchell whispered.
    â€œMom, don’t start. I’m careful,” Denim revealed. “What do you want me to do? Lie?”
    Her mother shook her head and immediately teared up.
    Seeing Mrs. Mitchell’s anxiety, the nurse intervened and said, “Mrs. Mitchell, it’s never easy finding out your children are sexually active, but at eighteen, it is a reality, and I commend your daughter for being honest. I have no doubt that you’ve given Denim all the right tools to become a responsible young woman.”
    With that said, Mrs. Mitchell cupped her daughter’s face, kissed her cheek, and said, “I love you, and I trust you’ll continue to make good choices. Don’t let me down.”
    â€œDon’t worry, Mom. I won’t,” Denim replied before getting into the wheelchair so she could go get her stitches and X-rays.
    Mrs. Mitchell wiped the stray tears from her eyes and said a silent prayer that God would continue to protect her daughter, watch over her, and help her make sound decisions regarding her future.
    An hour or so later Denim was dismissed from the hospital with a clean bill of health, aside from having a slight concussion and some bruising. She was told that her muscles would probably be sore for a couple of days but otherwise she was okay. During the ride home, she pulled her diary out of her purse and made a short notation.

    Dear Diary,
    I freaked out my parents and Dré again today. I feel like I have an invisible target on my chest or something. Got in an accident, and now I’m a little banged up. My car is probably totaled, but it could’ve been much worse. Angels were definitely watching over me once again. My head is throbbing from a gash on it, and I have a slight concussion. I can’t wait to get home so I can lie down. Not sure if I’m going to go to school tomorrow.
    D

    Denim slept for the rest of the afternoon and all night. When she woke up the following morning and sat on the side of the bed, she couldn’t believe how sore her body was. As she looked in the mirror, she noticed bruises that weren’t on her body the day before. That was when she realized that she’d gone through more trauma than she’d originally thought, and there was no way she could go to school today or tutor Julius. Luckily, her work schedule was only part-time this time of year. However, her cheerleading schedule was full-time, causing her to miss their grueling practices for a few days.
    A soft tap on her bedroom door interrupted her thoughts. She opened the door to find her mother standing on the other side with a heating pad, toast, and some orange juice.
    â€œHow are you feeling?” Mrs. Mitchell asked as she sat the tray on the nightstand.
    â€œSore. Thanks for the heating pad.”
    Mrs. Mitchell sat down in the chair next to her daughter’s bed and asked, “You’re not trying to go to school, are you?”
    She leaned down and showed her mother the bruises on her arm and leg. “No, ma’am. Look at these bruises. I didn’t have them yesterday.”
    Mrs. Mitchell ran her hand over her daughter’s soft skin and said, “It doesn’t surprise me. I’m sure it’ll be a couple of days before you’re feeling more like yourself.”
    Denim climbed back into bed and said, “I need to call Julius and cancel my tutoring sessions with him until further notice.”
    Her mother stood and said, “Go ahead and eat that toast so you can take your meds. All you need to do is rest. A little later you can get in our jetted tub to help soothe your muscles.”
    Denim nodded as she bit into the toast.
    Her father poked his head in the door and said, “How’s the patient this morning?”
    â€œI’m fine, Daddy.”
    He kissed her forehead and said, “Dré stopped by on his way to school.