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One day it all started, after I came back from school, she warm up the foods and sat with me on dining table to feed me, while having food I felt something different, she was taking time to remove her figures from my mouth , she was removing it gently after putting food in my mouth, and after some time, she started to move her figure on my lips while taking it out, also she had unbutton two buttons of her blouse, so her big assets were more visible to me, after some time she started something new and stated putting one figure in her mouth after taking it out from my mouth and then taking it out and rolling it on her lips, after some time I felt some pressure on my left thigh,I saw that she had put her hand on my thighs and was moving upward, I didn’t understand anything ,but was having some different kind of sensation, actually I was enjoying it, then she moved her hand upward and she reached my pappu (that’s what I used to call it when I was a kid), she started playing with it while. The man had been executed for killing six white women. In exactly the same way that he had killed her mother. But because her mother was black they had never made the connection to crimes that bore a remarkable resemblance to her mother’s death. So now she knew. Knew who killed her mother. She even knew why. The FBI had profiled the man extensively before his death. After he had converted to Christianity he had been among the most cooperative of their subjects. He had spent hundreds of hours talking with the team about why he committed his crimes, how he chose his victims. It was all there. And none of it mattered. None of it made any difference. Her mother was still dead. She had still grown up never knowing the woman. Her father had died under the cloud of suspicion. And her? Her whole fucking life, almost thirty years, had been about solving this one case. Finding her mother’s killer. She knew all the psycho-babble about closure. Where was that closure? Even knowing all that she.
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