MARTHA The rain started falling on Friday evening as I closed from my job as a waitress at Silver's Restaurant, a magnificent two-story building in Sun City. I rushed to the roadside, hailed a taxi, got into the back seat, and went home. Upon arriving home, I paid the driver and dashed out of the cab. I rushed through the gate of my father's enormous white mansion. When I reached the entrance door, I rang the doorbell, and my stepmother, Sandra Roger, opened it. Sandra wore a dazzling blue nightdress paired with black slippers. She frowned when she saw me return early. The thunder struck as soon as I shut the door behind me. I was drenched from the heavy downpour. It was 8 p.m., and I greeted her. "Good evening, Mom." "Martha, why are you home so early?" Sandra asked, glaring at me. Looking at her frowning face, I asked, "What sort of question is that? This is my father's house, and I can return home whenever I like." "Oh sure," Sandra replied with a smile and moved back to
Read more