My stepmother had a son who was, obviously, my stepbrother, but he was never subject to the same regime as me. Once, he came into my room and I told him where to go. Five minutes later, he came back with my stepmother in tow. She accused me of hitting him, which I hadn’t, but she wouldn’t believe me. So, she pulled out a chair from my dressing table. I continued protesting my innocence, but dreaded what was coming next. As I feared, she sat down on the chair and grabbed my wrists. I knew full well where this was