That I hid my condition for so long was problematic. At best, I would bestudied under a microscope like a radioactive cockroach or a delicatepoisonous...flower.Charges of Identity theft could lead directly to prison or blackmail bymore senior party officials.What I truly feared was much worse:Sabrina was not really Sabrina, she was a "Natasha", someone with noreal identity. She robbed westerners of their honour by giving up herdignity. There was no other way for orphans of the revolution. His hand comes up to my face, to help wipe away my tears, “We can work this out.”This is it! I think to myself. It’s now or never! and with a little skip of my heart, I make my move. “Do you really think so John?” I reply, fixing him with my most smouldering look, inches from his own eyes, as I bring my hands up to gently massage his forearms…For a moment I wonder whether he’s reading my signals, so I bring my arms up around his neck and tilting my head and closing my eyes, gently place my lips. More

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