I could tell that Margaret wanted to speak to me in private."She's still in her room," Margaret volunteered before I had a chance to ask where Cynthia...was. "I wasn't totally honest with you yesterday," she said, watching me for a reaction."Oh?" I asked, wanting her to continue."She wouldn't want me to tell you this, but it's more than vomit. I've seen specks of blood in the stool."Margaret reminded me of the cook and housekeeper we had at the Oldham house when I first came to live there. Like. ” I know that mood well, delight in it. My body responds immediately like a well-trained soldier to danger. It is on instant alert, tight and ready. I was pre-warned, you had said no panties, and I had obeyed, for both our satisfaction. You: “Move your skirt aside. Dip a finger. Taste it.” I obey. It tastes different to you, saltier. “Move your skirt from under you, no wet spot.” “Too late” I answered truthfully, but edged it aside anyway. Next text alert beeps. I haven’t even read it and my. More

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