Thanks so much and let’s keep this conversation going

Imagine hearing your name whispering softly, enticingly:  "Renee, Come Out to Play... " The streets had a way of calling my name, pulling me back into their darkness, making promises they never intended to keep.  Each time I returned, the price was heavier, the scars deeper.  I found myself pregnant again-this time, nearing losing my life through an ectopic pregnancy.  In that painful moment, I knew enough was enough.  I looked into my son's eyes and promised him--and myself--that I'd never let the streets call me back again.

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