But she answer without unflinching, “When I asked him to.”
“You asked him for s*x?”
“Yes.”
“And how soon after your mother’s death was that?”
“I don’t remember exactly, but not long, a few weeks, I think.”
“But why?”
“Because that’s what I wanted.”
“You were in love with him?”
“No. I wanted s*x, the way I saw him having s*x with his friends.”
“And you just asked and he agreed?”
While Sydney waits for the new story, the girl seems to fish through a thousand memories to retrieve this one, and once plucked from the many others that must be crowding through her brain, she starts a monologue that, beyond anything Sydney has heard so far, leaves the counselor breathless, her heart beating rapidly, her mind spinning, her body hot and flustered. “I went to Samuel one night when I was al
