She had hardly kept in touch with him after she had left his side, learning of his activities—or lack of them—from Aunt Martha. And now all she co...ld feel for him was the sadness of what had never existed between them—or for him. The Reverend Albin had lived to be eighty-eight. Ada, who had always been told her dominate characteristics came from her father’s side, could take comfort from his longevity. However, she told herself that, if she had the choice of living quietly to ninety or to live. I was exhausted, my legs burning with the exertion of running up and down the stairs. I flopped down on my bed, the hem of my sundress rising to the top of my thighs. My pants were still modestly covered so I felt no need to pull the hem back towards my knees. Besides, he was my brother and I felt safe in his presence.He flopped down beside me on the bed. Laughing, I moved over a bit to give him more room on the single bed.All he was wearing was shorts and a T-shirt. Both of us were barefoot.We. More

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