I didn't expect to see Rylee Creed after her brother's funeral. That's the initial reason my jaw hangs slack when she walks into Bent Pedal a month later. The loss of my friend hit me hard, but that's nothing compared to the crash she's endured. Grief and misery still shadow her every move. But she's not alone. A little boy about the age of my daughter clings to her side. Their shared pain is too ripe,...