He grinned at her, “On your best behavior, wench; we’rehere.”Before them on the road, which apparently was nothingmore than one hell...of a long driveway, stood a massivestone wall. A wrought iron gate, complete with arch anda swirling Old English “H” in an intricate circle, wasopen. Slowing down, Michael eased the sports car throughthe narrow passage. No longer was the surroundingcountry the tangled jungle of bayou undergrowth, but aplush carpet of green grass. No,. It was true but Icouldn't say it. I was terrorized by an idea my Dad would know I wasn't aboy.I was sitting in her office on the chair trembling in fear. My Dad was theone who insisted on others living by the rule to live and to act strictlyaccording to the regulations. And there was no place for me in thoseregulations.The law is the law as they say and if you are a girl you are a girl and ifnot you are a boy. I wasn't. I wasn't a girl I mean. Or rather I couldn'tprove I was. But I wasn't a boy. More

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