Sarah knew her son felt embarrassed about her rape, knew he was shy and bashful about it. She thought he had been hurt by what she had done, ashamed of her, perhaps.

She paced the floor, wringing her hands wishing she had more control over what was happening to her. She should not have been sitting on the couch with her fingers up her cunt in the first place, she told herself. If she had to fuck herself, she should have been in her room, so her son wouldn't have seen her. But she had been on the couch, and he had seen her, and there was nothing she could do about it now. When she got up this morning he had already had breakfast and was out of the house and now it was early afternoon and he had not come home yet.

The doorbell startled her in mid-pace.

A frantic feeling came over her for a moment, then she pushed it away. She had nothing to be afraid of, and certainly not because the doorbell rang.

"Oh, hi," she said, seeing Karen there.

Karen brushed past her and to the couch, sitting down and looking at Sarah quizzically.

"Sarah, you look different."

"Different? How?" Sarah clasped her hands across her stomach, avoiding a direct gaze at her older sister. She was sure Karen could see everything in her eyes.

"More… radiant," Karen said. "Your eyes are sparkling."

"My eyes?"

"And there's a certain glow on your skin," Karen said. "Are you seeing some man after all this time? If so, it's damn well time you did. A new man can positively make a woman glow."

"Karen, you know better than that," Sarah said, her voice shaky. "I don't know any men, and I wouldn't have one if I did."

"Oh, is that right?" Karen asked, arching her eyebrows. "And you seem so nervous about something. Hey, come on, this is big sister. What's bothering you, Sarah?"