“Suppose you call me by my proper name,” she said quietly. ‘I think you’ve gone stark, staring crazy. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn. She detected that the young officer’s shoulders tensed whenever she moved in the back of his 94 car. I tried. She had not anticipated such a response from her classmates, but knew to be drawing them with her self-consciousness as if they were bees to pollen. But calmer thoughts quickly succeeded. The pistol was his own, it is true, but it was one which was taken from him when he forced his way in upon me before.
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