While Cynthia runs off to fetch her some supplies, Melinda sits in the grass by the edge of the garden. She brushes the tops of the flowers with the palm of her hand. Her mind has drifted back to thoughts of her childhood, the happy thoughts before both her parents left. There was so much anger trapped inside her. And it wasn’t directed towards her grandmother. Sure, she had found out things that tinged her image of her grandmother, but still she had raised her with love and kindness. She had been there when no one else had.       The truth was, her father had abandoned her. And she still didn’t know why.       “Melinda!”      She turns at the sound of Cynthia’s voice, calling her from the house. “Yes?” she calls back, getting to her feet.      “Phone for you! It’s Greg!”