“Your brother fucked you!?”She had come to me quietly, timidly but she wanted to tell what had been going on in my own home for two years, “Yes,...I think he raped me but I’m not sure anymore.”Now that her brother was out of the house she felt she could talk to me, “What the hell do you mean you’re not sure? Did he rape you or not, that should be pretty easy to figure out. Either you let him or he forced you, which was it?”Nate, her brother, my son, was three years older than Sarah had just four. Watching me, I should say. I knew people found me attractive, like my Master and Joe, like these two Indian boys. I'd been a dancer once. I remembered that and even dreamt of it sometimes, and men had always liked me. Females too, some of them, like the woman I'd worked for, but I couldn't remember her name and only vaguely could I recall her face.We went out after our dinner, as all of our meals were known regardless of the time of day, and my brothers and I were feeling full and heavy after. More

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