." Bye, Mom."Stella hung up the phone.Chapter Nine:"Mommy," called Francine, running into Stella's studio. "The doorbell is ringing."Stella sighed. "O...kay, Frankie. Thank you, baby doll. Go play, and I'll go get it." Okay," said Francine, agreeable as ever.Stella smiled. She was such a good girl.The couple at the door were strangers. They were dressed in formal suits, and looked at her with anxious smiles. Stella smiled back, politely. "Can I help you?" she asked."Do you believe in angels?". As horrific as the lossof my family was, the loss of my own identity was nearly as bad. Ididn't look like the old me anymore, could no longer use that name, andI couldn't even do the things that I liked. Or at least, I couldn't dosome of them."At least I can still read," I said, thankful that I could still enjoyone of my passions. In fact, the nature of my powers actuallyencouraged me to read even more now. "But no one knows who I am," Iwhispered to myself. "No one would know if the White. But you should have wrote a story after you tried to seduce her, made her horny enough and compelled her to sleep with you. And after you fuck her to your heart’s content…. And then only you should have written whatever you have experienced actually.’ I looked at her with surprise. `But, Nisha, I never met such a girl, that’s my problem’ I said. She looked at me with fixed eyes and said, `Then first experience it and then write. I came here just to tell this to you.’I was getting excited. She. While that was going on the doorbell rang. Our Moms and Dads were back again just in time for Sunday morning breakfast. The Moms asked if they could help. They started another frying pan of potatoes. The stove was now full; no more empty burners.Wendy's phone rang; her Dad was in the neighborhood and wanted to know if he could stop in. "Sure," I replied.I asked Mom if she would check the coffee and do another pot. "There are about two cups left." She said."Just pour it into one of those big.