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think about how we're going to help her,” Rebel replied. “I'm not even sure we can. None of us knows how bad her habit is. If her body is too dependent on the drug, she could die without it!"
    Judd watched as Blackie strode forward and came to a stop directly in front of Rebel. Separated by just a few inches, Blackie stared down at their younger brother. “Well, if she don't quit takin’ it, she's gonna die anyway!” Blackie sighed and threw his hands in the air just before hunching over and resting them on the card table. He looked up at Rebel, wearing the most pained expression Judd had ever seen. “Christ, Reb, she's just a kid, a goddamn nineteen-year-old kid!"
    Catching a nod from Rebel, Judd joined his brothers at the table.
    "Look, Blackie,” Rebel said quietly, “I know—"
    Blackie suddenly stood up straight and pointed his finger in Rebel's face. “You don't know a damn thing, Rebel! Not a goddamn fuckin’ thing!"
    Rebel reached out and gently lowered Blackie's arm until it was resting at his side. Looking a bit surprised that he'd been allowed to even touch Blackie when he was in such a dangerous mood, Rebel seemed to shrug it off as he calmly continued. “I know that as the oldest, there's a good chance you're feeling like taking care of Georgia is your responsibility.
    "You probably even blame yourself for the fact that the old man stole her from her mother, and for what he turned her into. But it's not your fault, Blackie! You couldn't have protected Georgia from Dad the way you did Judd and me. We didn't even know about her!"
    "Reb—” Blackie started to say, but Rebel cut him off.
    "Georgia's nineteen years old, Blackie. Nineteen years ago, you were twenty-one, and already back in prison for the second time. Even if her mother had given birth to her, traveled to Hagerstown, and dumped her on our doorstep, you wouldn't have been able to take care of or protect her because you weren't here!"
    Blackie didn't say a word, but Judd knew that Rebel had hit the nail on the head. Not being able to save their sister from their father and his abuse was probably killing Blackie.
    "Fine,” Blackie conceded, “I couldn't have saved her then. But I can now. I'll be damned if I'm gonna let her walk out of our lives tonight, or allow her to inject any more of that junk into her body. She's quittin', and she's gonna start right now, whether she wants to or not."
    "I want to."
    They all turned at the sound of her small, twangy voice. Georgia was standing just in front of the office door, watching them. Judd didn't know how long she'd been there, but she'd obviously overheard the bulk of their conversation.
    "I can do it,” she said confidently. “I know I can."
    Blackie turned to her, his expression softening. “Are you sure? It ain't gonna be easy. I've seen guys go through heroin withdrawal and it ain't pretty."
    "I'm sure,” she said, making her way to the card table. Once she was sitting, she looked at Blackie and continued. “I went through withdrawal once before. It was only a little over twenty-four hours, so the worst symptoms hadn't peaked yet. But I know what I'm in for. If suffering through withdrawal doesn't kill me, then staying on heroin will. Either way, I have to try. I want my life back.” She paused and took a deep, shuddering breath. “Well, actually, I'd settle for just having a life. I know things will never be the same."
    Judd cleared his throat and asked the question he knew all three of them would like an answer to. “So your life was good before—"
    "Before Dolan took me?” she interrupted. “It was okay, I guess. I was a pretty typical teenager; went to school, had friends, played sports, babysat for extra money, stuff like that."
    "What about your mom?” Rebel asked.
    "What about her?"
    "Do you want to call her; let her know you're okay?"
    Georgia seemed to consider the offer for only a few seconds before shaking her head. “No, thank you."
    Blackie looked like he wanted to