I need a bag," she said. "Much has to go."She started to pile food up on the breakfast bar. "Hey," I said, "is this really necessary?"Katya looked bac... at me with determination. "Daphne," she said, "the kitchen is the hardest gym of all. Here it is too easy to go wrong. Too easy to slip back. Too much junk here." She picked out a pack of burgers from the freezer and tossed it onto the pile. "You cannot run on junk. Cannot train with rubbish in your body."I found her a plastic bin liner. She. They were nineteen and seventeen and a half, respectively. Joe was ten and Michael was sixteen that summer.They were a typical upwardly-mobile, very upper-middle class family. The father worked at a large manufacturing plant as the Vice President of production and the mother stayed home with her children and her younger sisters. Edward had a high paying job and he loved feeling successful, on way up the corporate ladder and assured of a great career and retirement, someday. I knew them but knew. More

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