I needed to understand what was going on.
And that’s when I thought of my best friend, Rachel.
The Favor I Asked My Best Friend
Rachel had known me since college.
She was one of the few people who could tell when something was bothering me, even when I insisted everything was fine. She was intelligent, practical, and wonderfully direct.
She had also met my father many times over the years.
He liked her because she was thoughtful and had a good sense of humor. Rachel liked him because he treated people with kindness and never made anyone feel unimportant.
One evening, while we were having coffee at my apartment, I finally told her about the six women.
Rachel listened carefully.
When I finished, she frowned.
“That’s strange,” she admitted. “But it could just be bad luck.”
“That’s what I thought at first. But six times? The same pattern every single time?”
