" I wasstalling for time, of course. What else could I do?"OK," she said. "You can explain it all to me at five o'clock."What was I going to do? What ...ere my options? Tell the truth? Or pretendthat I had some disease, poor circulation in the legs perhaps, thatmeant I had to wear tights under my trousers? Deny it? If I had saidthat I wasn't wearing tights I would have been telling the truth. Thefact is that I was wearing stockings and suspenders! Plead the fifthamendment? That would just prove I. That was it, that’s why Glory stayed friends with Amanda. Secrets had kept them together. Besides, nobody in Manhattan went to therapy. Mental illness was so uncool, a dark stigma that conjured up a series of ugly myths, myths about the mentally ill that needed to be abandoned, clarified. ‘I never talked to the walls,’ Glory cried, the plane touching down at O’Hare. Amanda nodded, looking out the window, a reporter with uneven cheekbones scribbling notes, setting up for a shot. The Sun Times. More

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