With hesitation, she started walking up the stairs again. ‘Please don’t forget the glass jar, Stephanie,’ the voice said. Stephanie’s heart ...tarted to beat against her chest like a musician beating on a set of drums. ‘Who’s there? This isn’t funny.’ Stephanie held the banister tight. She was afraid to let go. She feared falling backwards and killing herself, because she finally recognized the voice she heard. ‘Mother?’ ‘Turn around, Stephanie.’ ‘No.’ ‘Why not? I’m not going to hurt you.. The bra she was wearing was old and worn, and while the cups had probably been filled with her flesh back when the bra was new and Nancy weighed more than she did now, it was obvious that there wasn’t much under the fabric. My observation proved to me correct when she undid the hooks on the bra and shrugged it off of her shoulders, exposing breasts that were rather small and had begun to sag. The aureoles were dark crimson and large, as were the fat pegs of her nipples. Nancy stood there. More

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