Ginny Jenkins And Her Daughter, Sarah
I was suddenly aware of my attire; mini scrunch-butt hotpants and a semi-sheer crop top.
Dad’s face was ashen, and his eyes had a strange, haunted look. “Come in, my God, what’s up with you?” “It’s your mother, Sarah, she…” He stopped. He couldn’t look me in the eye. “She’s what, Dad?” I led him through to the living room. “Is she ok?” “She’s… oh God, Sarah. Can I stay here tonight?” “Yes, of course, but please tell me what’s happened. You’re scaring me.” “She’s… She’s left me. For a…” He trailed off again. “...