Each day, she awoke with a sullen outlook and each day, he breezed into her room with joy and happiness, hoping that some of it would rub off on her. ...ach night, she lay down to sleep, prefacing her slumber with a hot masturbation session in which Martin was the center of her imagination and each night, he listened from the hallway, muffling his grunts of pleasure even as they mirrored her own. And bit by bit, she learned. She slowly opened up to the therapist and with a little prodding, began. She seemed uniquely capable of moving forward without my help and I decided to only step in if she grew silent, and only if my mind could provide slightly better, non-standardized responses to what she was saying. ‘I grew up in this city, in a pretty regular middle-class family. My father was a high-achieving workaholic and my mother was a religious stay-at-home-mom, who cared as much about people’s opinions and doing good deeds as she did for me and my big brother, Mike. I’m still not sure if. More

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