“I lost the baby”, Kris said, eyes red-rimmed and shame filled. “I feel so horrible and so relieved at the same time.” We were cross-legged in a peeling red vinyl booth in my small Arkansas town’s fish house. I was ill-equipped for this kind of situation, but then so was she.  Kris was 17 and suffering from a lifetime’s worth of poor choices—some made by her, some of them made by others that affected her.