He’d tear them out and send them to her with his empty meal dishes. He had a small bookshelf, contents: A Farewell to Arms, A Tale of Two Cities, Mo...y Dick and, last but not least, The Count of Monte Cristo. He felt akin to Dantes, there in his own Chateau D’If, but lucky for Dantes security cameras did not exist back then, nor did sadistic beauty queens with unusual ways of winning men. His room contained a bed, comfortable enough, massive pile of pillows and a warm comforter. A desk, into. I was tempted to tell her Leon hadn’t minded but I held my tongue. Instead I just laughed and reminded her I wasn’t a child anymore. “What do you think Leon?” she asked, turning to him. “I don’t know” he replied “I guess she looks ok”. Not the answer she wanted and scowled at him. Mum and I went into the kitchen to make coffee. Her excuse for a talk. “Does your father approve of his daughter looking like a slut? I just laughed. “Oh I don’t think he would look at me that way” I said. She just. More

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