Unless, whoever is responsible for this disgusting, sick, perverted graffiti owns up right now.” Nancy kept calm and continued to scan the room.“I...think you can rest assured that I shall be informing Ms. Lindsay, Mrs. Smallwood and Mrs. Edwards about this, girls, and I hope they show absolutely no mercy to those responsible.” The thirty-four-year-old woman walked towards the open classroom door, still looking at the girls sitting in silence.“I’m disgusted at you, but what’s worse is that you. ”“I’ll get something ready for dinner.”“How was your day?”“Somewhat troubling. I was at the Gallery. I went to get another look at Emily Floyd’s installation. Really to walk around in it. The pieces are quite large.”“Is that what troubled you?”“No. It was the whole thing. Remember last week we were talking about cultural appropriation?”“Of course.”“Well, I no longer know what it is. I mean, I know that a wooden boomerang that’s been painted but made in Japan is an imitation of an Aboriginal. It's become who I am. I've become who I am.I return to the closet, and pastel fabrics swing and sway on the longtitano-chrome display rack, rippling and rustling together in a charming,chiming musical greeting just for me. Long, tall taffetas flutter in a delicious arabesque that I can't helpbut admiring -- the stretch and flow of the fabric, the crinkled swishingsounds in the air! All so touching, so beautiful. The short, flat wools flap enthusiastically, bodily swinging themselvesback and. But if she did what DeShawn wanted….what DID he want? What had ever possessed her to allow this maniac into her life? Her mind raced as she frantically considered the few options she had. One thing was certain: she had to get him out of here. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “All right…you win. Let’s go back to your room.”DeShawn chuckled. “No, that won’t do at all, Kimi.” He looked around the condo. “This is a nice place you have here. I think maybe we’ll fuck right here. If you’re.