I panicked thinking she woke up and closed the door before leaning against it my heart beating against my chest wildly. I cursed at myself. 'She's you...r sister! She probably doesn't even love you back and you keep setting yourself up for a major hurt.' I scolded myself. I decided right there that I should probably avoid her a bit until she forgets. I made my way down the stairs and started breakfast for everybody. I used to do this in middle school when dad was still around, but now it seemed I. ”“But ... you must have needed a last name at some point. For social security, if nothing else.”“I’m not registered anywhere. Neither the government, nor any organizations, schools for instance. Even the public library. My tutor would borrow books for me.”“How could an orphanage keep you from all that?”“Because it was an illegal operation. It was mostly a brothel.”“You were raised by whores?”“Yes, Theresa. One in particular, but I suppose they all had a hand in my raising.”“Were you a. I, well, just took it for granted as being the way all folks lived, “it was not something to chat about outside the house” dad said, as “it wasn`t good manners” and many is the time dad would just send me to chop sticks or dig the vegetable patch while he or one of the men threw mum over the table end in our kitchen, or on the sofa in the parlour saying “he needed to have his stiffness eased, or to squeeze a boil, or a pimple,” which he said “was embarrassing mum,” or that he was suffering. . the bubble would soon be filled with his sperm.The breeze was blowing the lace curtain and I could hear the voices of neighbours. Then the sound of a car... then the door closing. I peeked out through the window... this must be him. He was about fifty, bald, a little chubby but not overly so, from here he looked like he had a two day growth on his chin. I sat back on the bed and waited. My heart and adrenalin were working overtime. I could feel the thumping in my chest... and then the.