GAFFO'S 200

She stood there, paralysed. They only came in for the laugh. To pick up a few bits for Ciara's hen. She wasn't expecting this. Now, she can't let go of the box - unable to breath. She stares. The girls are an aisle away, fiddling with handcuffs. "You alright, Emer? You look like you've seen a ghost."

She stares on. Every wink in the street, every confusing "it's you isn't it?", every single bastard that undressed her with their eyes, the predators that told her she has even bigger tits in real life; all began to make perfect sense.

It was her. But it wasn't. How can two people look so similar. There was only one possible answer and she knew it, deep down. As she stared for the first time at what could only be her sister, her stomach turned at the inappropriate images of her violation. And for the first time in her 34 years, Emer's desire to find her birthparents consumed her to the point of tears.

"One hundred and seventy euro please." Christ, porno is expensive. But if it means nobody else in this town would see her sister degraded, it was a worth every penny