I enter a room, like a store, and Derek/Darryl is there in his wheelchair. I am shy and don't give him much eye contact and connection, even though I love him. Someone is narrating something about how the one who loves and stays learns more and is richer than the one who leaves. It's sort of my thoughts I am directing toward him. I want him to stay and love and learn. He finishes his shopping and rolls out the door. I say wistfully, "Goodbye Derek." He tosses a curt, distant goodbye over his shoulder as he leaves. Now I go into another room, with maybe clothes, maybe Katrina is in there. Now I am in a shopping mall area and see a sweet 6-month-old baby girl in an open store area. I am very happy to see her. She is so cute, innocent, fresh and happy and sweet. I hold her in my lap and am talking to her. I realize she's being sexually abused and I am telling her with empathy that she will have years of hard work ahead of her to learn forgiveness. Her parents are in the store and neglectful. They aren't paying any attention to her. I want to interfere, but know I can't. The girl baby will have to be unprotected and go through this awful pain and she will eventually prevail. There is a dog somewhere around.