Carry sighed. "Hey... I'm sorry. I found it, okay? It was by my guitar case. You dropped it. I didn't know where it came from, I just thought it was really good. If you'd put your name on it... I dunno, I would probably have given it back... asked if we could use it. I didn't steal it any more than someone finding the winning lottery ticket steals it."<br/><br/>She put a hand out, touched the older woman. "I like you... I don't even know your name, but you've always been kind, and friendly... and... " Carry sobbed. Turning on the water works rarely failed. "And, I don't have many friends. The band don't really like me... Sure they respect me, they like the money I make them with my voice and my guitar and my image... which I hate, by the way!" She sat heavily on the floor, a big crocodile tear rolling down her cheek. "But really they all think I'm a spoiled brat! I suppose I am, but that's not my fault, is it? Kids don't spoil themselves do they?"<br/><br/>The tears were rolling properly now, the sobs too. She dug the paper out of her pocket. "Here... I won't use it again... if it means that much to you..."