This was going to be tough.I opened my locker and a slip of paper fell to the floor at my feet. I bent to pick it wondering what it was and how it got...there. It was a piece of the loose leaf we used to make notes, torn from the pad and folded in four. My name was written on the front in red felt tip, the ‘a’ replaced with a heart. Clarissa’s neat hand was unmistakable. She must have slipped it through one of the vent slats at the top of the locker—the sort of things kids did when they were. She had bought it with some of the money her late husband had left her. She didn’t think about him much any more, it had been over fifteen years ago, and her only son was now living in Chicago with another man. About six o’clock the doorframe bell jingled and Penny walked through. She was dressed in a conservative office dress, and had a big smile on her face. ‘Hey Penny,’ Marilyn said. ‘Hi Marilyn.’ Penny replied. ‘You look nice,’ she said and then inquired, ‘Job interview?’ ‘Yeah, I think I. More

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