Finally, I broke down crying, and raged at him. I am not sure what I told him, but I didn’t tell him about what Daddy had done to me, or that there...had been other men at my house. I did tell him I had been beaten—just beaten—and that Daddy had made a videotape of it, and that if he loved me, he would help me; he promised that he would help me. I told him that he couldn’t help me any way other than by sleeping with me either before someone else did, or I was dead. Paul made me look at him,. I sat in my apartment after work, drank a lot of beer, watched my collection of noir flicks, and day dreamed about a different time and place. Miss Mittens was my only companion for the first ten weeks Abby was in New York. Even she thought I was pretty terrible company. I have no idea if anything would have been different if Abby had left under different circumstances, if we’d been talking on the phone every night, eagerly anticipating her return. I don’t. You can never calculate the impact. More

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