“Maybe I like to show off,” my daughter informed me. “Maybe I like attention.”It felt like the air between us crackled and fizzed while I gawk...d at Jemima. But you’re gorgeous,” I said, sighing it out. “Surely you don’t have to put it all out there like this?”Jemima smiled, the expression something close to pity as she looked at my face. “You’re sweet,” she said, “but I’m a grown woman.”My daughter paused and took her hand away from my leg.“I have appetites, daddy,” Jemima went on, eyes on the. I did feel lied to and used. Pissed off. Mightily pissed off. And mystified. But mostly just wanting to get the hell out of there.I sat back down on the cot and brooded. Sulked. Felt sorry for myself. Felt extremely sorry for myself. Got tired of feeling sorry for myself. Finally, I began examining my options.The room had no windows. No phone, of course. The very solid-looking hardwood door would not open. There was no furniture, other than the cot, and its riveted metal frame would not. More

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