“Heather ... Are you a hundred percent sure?”She was silent for a time. “Nothing is ever a hundred percent.”“Did your parents tell you?”�...No.”“Frej?”“No.”I caressed her hair. There’s some hope, then!“Then why do you think this?”Heather’s voice was mute. “My parents’ blood types don’t match mine.”I reeled at this odd statement. “What does that mean?” I asked.“We did a thing about blood and genetics in science class. I had our types from the blood donation paperwork, and I decided to look, for. “That’s real good mom,” I replied, in a near whisper.Linda’s hand eased down my back and began exploring further, first down my spine to the small of my back, and then beneath my arms and then stopped.I held my breath; and I sensed she also was holding her breath.Then her hands came up and gently cupped my breast.“These are nice darling.”“Mm ... but too small.”“Hush; your barely fifteen!”“I know.”“Would you like some acupressure? I did some training for it once.”With closed eyes, I nodded.“Okay. More

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