I knew it wasn’t her fault. She was working as a bartender, and that didn’t pay much. I worked part-time to help out, as dad had just up and left ...nd we had no idea where he now lived. I decided that I'd better get up and help her get to bed, before she fell and hurt herself or broke something. I got out of bed and went into the kitchen where she was sitting at the table. When she saw me, she started to cry and told me how sorry she was that she hadn’t been a better mother to me.My stepmom had. It was all my fault. I promise it’ll neverhappen again,” I mumbled. “O.K,” she said, wiping her eyes. “The incident is closed. Itnever happened, understand?” I nodded. True to her word, over the subsequent days Mom never mentionedthat night, and I thought for a time that maybe that really was theend of the matter. But gradually, over the next few weeks, things happened tomake me think differently. First of all after a spell of being “good”I began. More

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