This is what happens when you give an eight-year-old free run of the family library and she picks an economics textbook as her bedtime story. I doubt ...randma even knew what “dividends” meant. I know I hadn’t. The most interesting things in her attic that were least likely to poison, maim, or incapacitate were the books. I grabbed a few from a shelf, pulled a blanket out a trunk that appeared to be dust proof, and sat down on an old leather chair. The books were amusing old things, printed with. Then the Goddess, if that's who shewas, reached around us both and put her hands to either side of my faceand kissed me and I fell asleep.I woke up in a stranger's bed, but then, when I got up and found my wayto a mirror, I was the stranger. I was a naked teenage girl with longblack hair and deep crystal blue eyes and a red smile. I didn't knowwhy I was smiling, except that for the first time in a long time I feltgood. Not because I was a girl -- I wasn't sure I wanted any of that --but because. More

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