Then abruptly Karen broke out in hysteria. She roared backward, lunging then she immediately and uncontrollably flung her tanked-up body down into my ...ap, where she began to recoup a bit. “Cassandra Keane!” Karen scolded me; a motherly bark of my full name. I liked hearing it. I felt my identity returning to my soul. We laughed until our sides hurt, rolling around like puppies on the couch. “Oh, shit! I haven’t had this much fun in years.” Karen said, wiping her eyes from the laughter. We need. “Milo?” she yelled. “Come down, love and have some breakfast!” At the same time the doorknob turned and without knocking my father burst into my bedroom. I wasn’t worried, of course, but I have to admit, I felt very uncomfortable. “Where have you been last night?” he asked without any introductory politeness of bidding me good morning. He stood in the door, meaty fingers of one hand holding onto the doorknob so tight they turned white, clearly exposing his anguish and probably anger. “I went to. More

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