I wished bad things would happen to her. I hatedher."My sister? Hate someone? That's not like her. "It's not your fault," Isaid, choking up myself..."She treated me like shit at cheerleading. She made fun of you in frontof my face. But she didn't deserve this. I didn't mean to wish this.She didn't deserve this." Her talking was replaced by sobs.This cheerleader bullying my sister because of me? Those feelings ofvulnerability came back. I wanted to lash out at the world. My ownthoughts. Charlene owned a small boutique in the upscale West End of town. We parked in a reserved parking stall at the rear of the shop. The two gentlemen lead me into this den of iniquity. A beautiful blond clad in a delicate silk slip and high heels greeted us at the rear entrance. I recognized her as one of the women that had modeled at the restaurant. She kissed each of us and ushered us into a cozy room furnished with a several large overstuffed chairs, matching ottomans, end tables and what. More

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