He now turned to me, "She's your fucking whore today" he said. I looked down at mom, not knowing what to say or do, uncertain of what dad had in mind...."Slap the bitch" he told me and I just stood there, fearful of what mom would do or say when dad raised his hand and slapped me across the face. "Slap the fuckin' whores face" he ordered again. This time I obeyed. I moved up next to mom and with one swing, I slapped her hard across her face. "Again" dad ordered and once again my hand went. The reason, as it was explained to her, was because she was dark skinned, a color that was a lovely, creamy caramel, but so different from the pale peaches and cream color of Lady Alger’s skin, and in fact, everyone else she had ever met. Lady Alger was not her mother, but her caretaker and tutor. The few times the girl had broached the subject of her origins, or why she was here, Lady Alger was cool and emotionless as she would answer. ‘You are here to learn the lessons of comportment, and. More

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