When Judy was around, or Rachel was, or when I was alone in my house, I would carefully remove it from the velvet garment bag, walk around my bedroom ...n it, posing in front of the one mirror I shared with Rachel. Rachel tried it on, but it didn't fit her, to my sisterly delight. It fit me. Just me. The thought came to me like this: I was never going to be Joan Sutherland, Amanita Galli-Curci, Madame Shuman-Heink, or any other opera singer. I couldn't do that. I could never come close. I had. Her account of the dreadful events left me speechless, angry, yet humbled.“I’ve told you the facts,” she said. “Now, I’ll tell you the feelings.“There were rules; rules that I didn’t like; rules that I felt other kids didn’t have to obey. But, I had to if I didn’t want to get yelled at, humiliated, and get beat on my naked butt. I had to find a way to survive and get through it alone. After the first couple of times he forced me to make him ejaculate, I convinced myself that it didn’t happen. I. More

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