As Jane turned, Miss Carlton once more pointed to the floor in front of her as she rested her pert backside against the lip of her large oak desk, her...slim ankles crossed daintily."So." Miss Carlton said as Jane stood before her. "Shall we discuss the note you were passing to Tara?" I didn't write it, Miss. Honest." Jane pleaded her innocence."I know that, I have been your English teacher for the last three years, if I don't recognise my girls' handwriting I don't know who would. However you. ‘What the fuck is this all about?’ I thought to myself.“Sure… Come in,” I stammered.I was now overcome by an inexplicable feeling of déjà-vu, like a contestant on a quiz show who knows the answer but cannot bring it to mind. Something about Patrizio was incomprehensibly familiar.As we sat down on the stools at my u-shaped kitchen island counter, I politely asked, “Would you like a glass of wine?”“Grazie… Thanks,” he then countered, correcting himself.“Red or white?” I responded.“Red, if you. More

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