She had never pushedhim; she knew that; she had never pushed him. She moved carefully today.She looked into the bathroom. Standing at the same spot wh...nce shemonitored him when he was in it. What day had it been when she had firstnoticed her toiletries askew? A Sunday, yes, a Sunday. The smell of rose-scented oil. The embarrassment on the little boy's face in the bathtubwas still vivid in her mind.She walked into her bedroom. His wail still filled her ears. His tearsstill dampened the carpet.. It was modelled after the robes worn by thestatues of Greek goddesses, exposing a lot of skin around my shouldersand cleavage. I didn't consciously choose this design, so maybe I wasadjusting better than I thought.Finally able to relax, I took a long look around at the gawking groupsof students and sighed, I could already see the rumours of my arrivalsprouting on the campus grapevine. Mrs Carson, following my gaze, echoedmy sigh saying: "I think we should retire to my office, I can alreadysee. More

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