Somewhere within me, in a place as dangerous and electric as a live wire, I knew what this meant, if it was true. If it was true being something that I would repeat to myself again and again. If it was true being something that I might always cling to, in a disbelieving, childlike way, part of the thick sludge. If it was true that Susie and I were not half sisters, my father was not my father.
