’ She hesitated, as if pondering whether to let me into what I quickly understood was her inner sanctum, the place where she went to get away from t...e world, the place where she let her dreams run rampant. ‘Sure,’ she said finally. ‘Just don’t mind the clutter. It’s organized chaos in there.’ She was right about that. There were all sorts of card tables covered with tubes of oil paint, colored chalk, crayons in a bewildering array of colors, pencils and ink pens, and tins of watercolor paints. . But the door slamming and the hurried footsteps snapped her out of her reverie. Jumping from her chair, Mrs. Jenson ran to her bedroom door just in time to see Tiffany storm by."Honey, what's the matter?"When Tiffany didn't answer, Mrs. Jenson went to her daughter's room and knocked. Impatient, her hand slowly turned the doorknob, inching the door forward. Peering through the opening, she saw Tiffany sitting on her bed cross-legged, face cupped in her hands. That brought back memories of the. More

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