"I've always thought she was the best of your friends, Heather." What he really thought about the little waif was not something he'd willingly share with his daughter.

Heather got up and cleared the table, then returned and stood beside her father, leaning back against the table.

"Daddy? Do you think that something like that might help me?" She asked quietly, her head bowed.

"Like what?" Harold asked.

"Punishing me when I'm bad. Not just take things away, but... you know, like Lynn."

"I'm not sure I do. How is Lynn punished?" He asked, intentionally obtuse.

"She gets spanked."

"Oh." Harold was lost for words. Could this be for real?...