”“You did not word it wrong, you accused me of something I never ever did,” I asserted.“I – yes…” Ophelia, defeated, whimpered. “Look,...I’m sorry. I just felt… cornered… and…” It was becoming hard for her to focus.I had an idea. A downright evil idea. Up the dosage, right then and there. I closed my eyes, pretending to look stressed from the conversation, and planted the seed.The effect was instantaneous. Ophelia’s chest was now rising and falling with her breathing. Her hands needed to be. ." No, that's okay." Do you want to talk?" You're busy." Kind of, but..."Margie embraced Mary. "Do your thing," Margie whispered. "I can see it's done wonders for Pussycat." I love you Little One," said Mary, kissing her lightly on the lips."I love you Mary." They shared a sad smile and Margie walked away.Embracing her role as scullery maid, Margie began collecting plates and cups and glasses, bringing them into the kitchen to clean. Needing little attention on the work, words started emerging. More

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