I stood before my husband's grave, repeatedly engraving in my heart the vow to live solely for my one son. Yet, that promise gradually led me into a whirlpool of impure desires. Burdened by debt collectors for my son's sake, on the worst of days, I climaxed right before my son's eyes. Since then, the way my son looked at me—his gaze as a son gazing upon his mother—had grown strangely sinister, and his stare began to strip me bare, piece by piece.