I took my sister at her word and continued my visits to her room in the mornings, and it felt like a pilgrimage. My magic mountain journey to the third floor inside my own house before the sun rose. I also continued to resist touching her, though she offered each time in that wonderful catlike naked apparition, as the sun sent lights dancing on her soft skin and blonde hair. I was so satisfied yet just to sit and talk - tell stories - in the early mornings, though I could sense a rising frustration in her voice. That single reticence aside, I was growing braver in the rest of...