The ball gag lay on the floor, the silk ropes were still tied to the bed, and the box of pills were untouched on the night stand. Desma sat on the bed...with her feet tucked under her with a look of rage on her face. In her arms she coddled the crying form of her younger sister, Kesha, who was a full head shorter. The long T-shirt, Kesha had put back on, reached her knees and she hugged Desma burying herself in her chest. "What did you do?" asked Desma through clenched teeth. My answer was. The righteousness flew out of me: What were they thinking? How could they be so stupid? How long had this been going on? And then thought, why do I think it is any of my business? I watched as they finished their lunches and tossed away their brown bags in the same city garbage can. Then she headed inside the bed and breakfast with Finn following. Her long lunch hours on Friday were nothing more than nooners with my married best friend. It made me hate her. And I’m not sure why I felt so. More

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