"It's just since she met the boy that things have changed." You'll have to find her, where did she go? Call her, NO, I'll call her. You just find her;...don't let her stay overnight with that boy." Helen ranted and I let her, dialing Janie's number with my cell-phone while half listening to my former wife, half not.There was no answer. Helen heard me leaving a voice mail message, asking our daughter to please call us back, adding that her mother was also worried about her being away over. Her finger, caked with the same icing, headed for her the smiling gape of her open mouth.Ripping her gaze from the photograph, Mia glanced at the subtitle on the Wiki page. “A woman who has been pied.”She looked back at the woman and wished she could see the video. See it slide down her skin, fall off her face. “WAM,” Mia had Googled. Wet and messy. The name of the fetish was almost funnily appropriate, but it felt solidifying to her. Intoxicating. Like it belonged in the make up of. More

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