Twain's End - Pg 58

   Her father had made her sit next to her mother, and then he put the infant, heavy as a small sack of sand, into her arms. Baby Charlie scowled up at Isabel with his double chin and furrowed brow, a petulant worm being pulled into the light. Love surged through her bony chest. Gritting her teeth against the overwhelming pain of it, she squeezed his arm. He cried out.
   "Charles!" her mother exclaimed. "Take him away from her."
   Her heart had broken as her brother had been wrenched from her. Even now, as she looked out over the majestic river, she could taste the bitterness of being misunderstood.