158

"Frankenstein wasn't the monster," Tabitha interjected, speaking even as she raised her hand. As she often did. "Hemade the monster, then it turned evil all on its own."

It was Friday, and I was back in my room in time for a bit of last-minute final exam preparation. It felt like a month since I'd stood in this room, not four days. Entering this morning had been surreal, and six hours later, it was barely less so. I'd been all sorts of nervous about what to expect. Teaching can be a bit of a fish bowl, oftentimes, yet to my immense relief, as near as I could tell, people had enough of their own drama to worry about without needing to worry about mine.

I'd taken lunch in the teacher's cafeteria, where Amy and the rest of my department were at their usual table. Their curiosity was plain, and I answered it without being asked. My tale of being seduced and subsequently framed was met with fretful gasps, women mortified by what those no-good Sterns had put one of us through this time. M