How a mother of two ended up in a plot to smuggle high-tech gear to the enemy.
In life and death, tattoo artist Kauri Tiyme made her mark.
Amy Neustein never could resist going public with her family dramas.
A visit with the hurricane victims that a country forgot.
"That's good. It means we're getting something done. You're going to have the best night's rest tonight you've had in a long time."
It's been 90 minutes since Max parked in front of the house. Vivian walks him to the door. He tells Max that he's meant to be a preacher someday.
Vivian watches Max walk to his car. Once he's satisfied that Max is safe, he goes back to the living room and starts thinking about what to eat for dinner.
A few weeks later, Vivian hasn't heard back from Max. His other former case, Katrina, is doing much better, though.
She has her daughter, Cheyenne, back from the foster family. The first week of April, they moved into an apartment for renters who qualify for low-income housing. Katrina works part time as a secretary, and so far she hasn't had a recurrence of the problems that led her to Vivian. She says she can remember only bits and pieces of what it was like.
"I remember punching myself in the eye, I remember biting myself, but the rest isn't very clear," she says. "Nobody drives in front of my house anymore."
Every morning she starts the day with a series of curse-breaking routines Vivian taught her. Then she takes her daughter to school and goes to her own job. They lead a quiet life.
"I do still take the bipolar meds," she says. The Division of Social Services takes blood samples to make sure she stays on them. "I really don't need them anymore. The problems I had, Brother Vivian solved. Who Jesus makes free is free indeed."