I trudged into the bedroom, stooping to pick up the bag from her closet floor. Her closet! Who was I kidding? This was HER bedroom. Everything in ...t was HERS. Nothing in here was mine. MY stuff was jammed into the tiny closet and dresser in our smallest bedroom—the one we used for our home office. There was barely room for the desk, chair, and a file cabinet. That meant that I slept in a sleeping bag on the floor.Gail’s friends were laughing wildly when I walked onto the back porch.. Immediately my guard was up, along with my pulse and my adrenaline. Unaware of who was present and more crucially, what their intentions toward me happened to be, I could only assume the worst and as such, I was prepared for an altercation. With as much authority as I could muster, caught in this vulnerable position, I whispered: “I know you are there.” There was no response. Then, as if an apparition, I saw a hand crossing over my shoulder as if to caress me. Gripping it fiercely, I spun. More

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