It was a feeling about what he did. He took me and didn't hold back. Didn't wait for me to do everything. He wanted me, and he let it show." I'm sorry it took us this long to work it out." Shawna turned and stared across the mattress. "We ... Well, Marcus wouldn't notice, but I should have." I didn't show you. I didn't show anyone," Hope explained. "I just bottled it all up and hoped it would change, but neither of you are mind-readers." I am," Shawna replied indignantly."Oh, really?" Hope. Once again I gambled with my own boldness, not knowing if I'd succeed in the attempt, though I was now determined more than ever to try. "Your turn," I said simply looking at her, letting her know by the expression in my face that I was serious and not joking around."Yeah...right, I wish," she said non-committally, though her tone of voice belied the truth of her need even as she spoke."So?" I answered back. "Do it...let me see you," I now asked, almost pleadingly. Once again she sat there. Our Indian guest arrives at Winston’s pen – the largest in the room, and the best illuminated (which isn’t saying much). Breeze-block walls, a wooden fence to the front, and a straw and mud filled interior. She’s turning her nose up as she approaches, but her expression soon turns to a smile again when she sees the pig himself.“My word,” she says, with almost comedic stereotyping, “He is such a big fat monster!” She turns away from the pen to look back at Jenna. Breathing hard and failing to. “Come, let’s go,” I held Sunil’s hand and dragged him. He was shocked. The poor boy probably thought I would’ve forgotten about it when I went into my room.Sunil guided me to his house. It was a huge one, of course, since his father is a politician. I rang the doorbell outside the gate. After a few seconds, it opened automatically.The front door of the house was open. He was standing in front of the door. He closed it after we entered.“Can you explain yourself?” I asked him and put both my arms.
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