" Jenny bit into her lip, her eyes wide, not daring to lift them as she wondered who ‘we’ were. Their small group of friends perhaps or, God forbi..., Olivia and her father? She felt her heart hammering bird-like in her chest as her cheeks grew hot with shame. "Oh, looks like I hit a nerve, sweet Jenny. I wonder how to draw out your secret. Is it a lover? Perhaps Sam Morrison? Or Hugo Pelletier?" Jenny felt her pausing behind her, imagined she could feel her warm breath tickling her ear, her. What do you think?” I could barely breathe much less talk. But somehow I managed to stammer out my appreciation of what I was seeing. Mom seemed genuinely grateful for my reaction. I could tell she was really enjoying this little show. She would look at herself in the mirror as she turned first one way than another. All the while she would ask me questions about what, I thought. She asked me if the make-up was too much and if the shoes were overdoing it, etc. I was too busy staring to give very. More

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