She was in her early 30's, 5'7", very fit, brunette, skin freckled from the sun, terrific muscular legs and a really awesome rack. She was wearing a y...ellow tank top and running shorts, leaving little to the imagination, and on her left hand I noticed what appeared to be a small skating rink. I'm usually oblivious to things like jewelry but that rock was as big as a bottle cap.So she invites me in and tells me how she wants the furniture arranged, where the new pieces go, and so forth. I had. I’ve just been growing too big up here,” she said indicating her chest. “I’m sure you have! Can we see?” “Sorry?” Wondered Amna. What was her aunt’s friend suggesting? “Fatima’s just wondering if we could see how much your breasts have grown,” Aunt Salim elucidated. “Come on, Amna, you can’t be too shy about showing her. After all you show your body to strange people every day.” “It’s not the same thing!” Amna replied, but nevertheless she opened her kimono so that her breasts were revealed to. Seeing the newintention, he drew a small amount of blood across my exposed throat.The rage that engulfed me due to years of abuse sent my knife home to itsintended victim. I had visions of picking up his dismembered parts andflushing anything that was rendered useless. His fucking zipper saved hispride and joy. The zipper showed my resolution and his hand involuntarilydropped his knife. A ruined pair of pants and he and his lovely wifedisappeared through the remains of the door I had. “I know that you know that I’m not your birth-son. Alyssa, Faith, and I were all already born when you and Dad married.”Mom drew back some. “How did you find out?”“Faith,” I said. “I’m sure she told you that she stayed with me for a weekend while apartment hunting in October. Well, she told me about Dad disappearing, and our Brady-bunch secret.”Alyssa frowned at the reference, but Mom acknowledged it.“I also met my half-sister, Valory,” I said without waiting for more questions. It was better.