There have been so-called fictional stories written about you and this power ... I spent a lot of time and money trying to figure if it -- and you -- ...re real." I'm real, that's for damn sure, but a 'power'?" she gestured in my direction, "Didn't you check this out with Snopes.com and the other urban legend sites?" That's what is so interesting -- " My vision blurred and I felt like someone just made solid contact with my head during a nasty pillow fight, yet it disappeared as quickly as it. "Your daughter's OD'd again. The doctors have pumped out her stomach and she's laid up sick in her childhood bedroom. She can't stay here when I fly back to the Med. You've got to take responsibility." No way," said Zara. "Last time she stayed at my place, she pawned one of those Liberian diamonds for heroin or cocaine or something. I'm not taking that risk again. She's a junkie. She can mainline in someone else's home not mine. You've got the money, you handle it. Why don't you just book her. I then slowly tip toed towards the hall. The light from our society’s corridor was coming through the Window-sill and had lighted up the hall ever so slightly that one could see clearly even if the Hall lights were off and window curtains pulled in. I peeped in slowly and saw Sarika completely naked, her legs spread apart and Raj between her legs was fucking her profusely. My immediate reaction was to confront them, but at second thought I saw that they were both immersed deeply in each other. He mortgaged his house again, took another business loan from the bank, and even used the college savings for his children, Lindsay and Dylan.“I think we are going to have to talk to the kids,” Mark said to Sarah.“So we are really going to sell the house?” Sarah asked sobbing.“I don't think we have any choice,” Mark sighed.That night at dinner, Mark and Sarah brought the kids up to speed on the situation. Dylan tried to stay strong, but you could see in his eyes that he was upset. He was.
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