She cried out again, but didn't move. Her hands clutched at the chair, her face now resting on the seat, almost as if she were still sucking its imagi...ary occupant. I was out of control now, and I lashed her again and again, not holding back, whipping her ass mostly, with an occasional blow to her back. I knew her cries and screams might be heard from outside, but I was well past worrying about that. Denise never moved, never tried to avoid the whip. There were angry red stripes streaking her. And that love had always been enough for them both. ‘And how was your school today?’ Amila asked her daughter. ‘Good. We’re going to be doing some cool projects next month!’ ‘This is good. You are happy still?’ ‘Very much. Why?’ ‘There is so much in the news these days. So much hate. Sometimes I wonder…’ ‘It’s no worse now than when we got here, Mom. Sometimes people’s hatred is palpable, other days it’s not there.’ ‘But still, no one suspects…?’ ‘No, Mama! What is there to suspect? You need to. More

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