But Linda wasn't Nancy. She was shy. An introvert. And Michael would never molest one of our three daughters. He was a good man. I sighed and slipped ...ut of the room. Was there a way to get them to have sex?I frowned as I noticed Renee's door was shut tight. Had that been shut when I brought my husband into our room? I leaned towards the door. Did I hear the bed quivering? Renee, our middle daughter of nineteen, had her room right next to ours. Was someone in there? Renee was usually down by. Her phone had developed early-onset Alzheimer’s, she thought.Hobbling to the dais, she sat down on the edge and removed her left boot. She’d intentionally kept it on last night to control swelling (not to mention the possibility of needing to flee on short notice), and this morning, her ankle ached worse than ever. “Fuck,” she moaned, loosening the laces.The swelling was bad enough to require loosening the laces the entire length of the tongue. Grinding her teeth in anticipation, she gingerly. More

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