Write a question from the passage such that it identifies a character (a person or a thing) in the passage.

[Q]: "That'll be $9.87."
Rebecca Ranghorn flipped up the top of the box, pulled out a glazed donut, and took bite.
The young secretary behind her looked on in disbelief. She was so ready for the weekend. But first she had to get to the office and put in her lousy eight hours. Why couldn't this woman just pay and get out of the way?
Rebecca tossed the box at the clerk. A couple of donuts flew out and fell on the floor behind the counter.
"Those are yesterday's donuts. I told you to give me the fresh ones."
"But, ma'am, these are the fresh--." The look in her eyes stopped him cold. He dumped the box in the trash and picked out a fresher dozen.
"Now, that'll be $9.87, please."
"Keep your drawers on, Jack." She sampled the new batch. "That's more like it." She threw a ten dollar bill on the counter and walked out with her donuts and large bottle of orange juice.
Her enormous black 1979 Lincoln Continental Town Car was four feet longer and twice the weight of the young secretary's Toyota Corolla parked next to it. It was costing her a fortune to drive her dad's old car. But it made her feel close to him--even though he had been dead for eleven years. She rarely had an occasion to drive out of town--and it was not a big town. Sherman, Texas has about 36,000 residents.
She pulled into the old strip mall parking lot. Most of the stores and other businesses were barely hanging on. The place hadn't seen decent shopping traffic since the 1980s. But it was the perfect location for Rebecca and her partner. They didn't need shoppers. All they needed was cheap office space. Theirs was narrow, but deep, with a reception area, two offices and a bathroom.
[A]: Who tasted the new batch of donuts?


[Q]: As someone diagnosed with bpd this question kinda tugged at my heart, for a few reasons.
From my understanding, the core of the disorder is an unstable sense of self and an inherent shame or worthlessness.
Before I was treated I thought I just needed someone else, the right person to come along to love me in just the right way, being mindful of trauma and never triggering my symptoms.
I was living in a fantasy world.
You cannot expect another person, a whole person with a sound mind and stable to sense of self to subject themselves to the circus act of our lives. We can't even manage it ourselves!!
I have been in two long-term relationships, and dozens of short ones six months or less. One of the two began when I was very low and lasted a very toxic 3 years. I entered treatment during that relationship, which resulted in it's demise. I was much happier afterward.
The second relationship began after I completed treatment. We have seperated twice during the past 2 and a half years, and our relationship is currently rocky as well. But who I am in the relationship has changed.
I am no longer the girl who needs extra reassurance daily that he's coming home from work. I can breathe when he goes to hang out with his friends. I am not threatened by every waking thought of his not being about me. Instead I am the woman that validates him and myself in arguments, and I put respect over everything. Of course I lose my temper. Self improvement is a constant process.
But, to avoid hurting anyone you love, you should definitely talk to a counselor if you are looking for another person to help you :) For family members/lovers/caregivers, it's stressful and often results in a lot of resentment in the relationship!
Be safe!
[A]: Who does the author no longer worry about coming home from work?


[Q]: Everyone woke early on the day that Dogland's restaurant opened. Everything that needed to be done in advance had been done: white wire tables and chairs stood on the restaurant's green concrete patio, and a sign painter had lettered each of the restaurant's windows: Doggy gifts and Snack bar and Guided tours and Bring your camera! and Entrance with a stylized hand with a finger pointing toward the restaurant's front door. Ma, Mayella, and Francine had scrubbed the front room and the kitchen "from top to bottom," as Ma proudly announced several times. She wished her mother could come to visit, because she knew the place would never be so clean again.
James had mowed the open land, and Ethorne had walked the grounds with a clippers and a knife, saying he had every intention of improving on perfection. Seth had lettered several sheets of poster board with the information that the kennels would not formally open until more dogs had arrived, people were welcome to stroll along the viewing path for free, and please don't feed the dogs.
We woke at sunrise. Because this was a special day, Pa left to pick up the workers. Ma dressed us, telling us to stay clean and not to talk to customers unless they talked to us first and to stay by the house and not to get in the way and to always be polite and not to yell or make noise unless someone wanted us to get in their car or go anywhere with them without Ma or Pa saying it was okay first, and then we were to scream for all we were worth.
Little Bit didn't want to wear a dress. When Ma asked if she wanted to be a little lady, she gave a decided "No," so Ma let her wear shorts, T-shirt, and cowboy boots like Digger and me.
[A]:
Who had scrubbed the front room and kitchen "from top to bottom"?


