Mom, Dad Is With Another Pretty Woman!

My parents' love was the stuff of legend in Paris.

My father had three long scars running across his back—marks that he earned rescuing my mother from her own father.

The tallest, grandest building in the city was my father's wedding present to her.

The year I was born, the whole city lit the sky with fireworks all night—my father's gift to my mother.

People said I was the living proof of their love.

When I was three, a pretty woman moved in next door. She put my small hand on her rounded belly and smiled.