Sitting on the couch is a tall, thin woman. She has blond hair streaked with grey pulled into a tight knot on the back of her head. She has large glasses framing her dull-blue eyes. The wrinkles on her face show you that she is very old. The grim look in her eyes and the pursed line of her lips look odly familiar as she stares at you.
"Well, you've grown just as I thought you would: too short and gangly. And WHAT have you done with your hair?" the old lady snapped.
"Excuse me!" you say angrily. How dare she treat you like this? You don't even know her, at least not that you remember.
"And what horrible manners! Did you teach her ANYTHING? I knew we should never had given her to you!" she said, glaring at Dave and Mary.
"Why don't we get down to why you came here?" Mary said angrily.
"Yes, we should," said the old lady. You know that angry glare somewhere.
"Hello, I don't believe you remember me-"
"No, we don't." You snap.
"I am Mrs. Krensington, the director of the American Adoption Association.
"Oh.." that's where you know her from!
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