Simple advice in theory. Very difficult to do in practice.
“You have a daughter in the school, don’t you?”
I nod. “Isla. She’s in fifth grade. Ms. Roe’s class.”
“Ms. Roe,” Mrs. Levinson says, rolling her eyes. She sees me stifling a laugh and winks. “You seem like a sensible girl. You know what I’m talking about.”
“I’m stuck here full-time, Mrs. Levinson. It’s dangerous to offer up my honest opinions about my colleagues. Makes for trouble, you know?”
She laughs, a sound like a wheezy old couch belching up dust. “Oh, I understand. Used to be the same for me before I retired. How long have you worked at Crestmore Academy?”
“Well, back in the day, I was a student here, actually. But I’ve been working here ever since I enrolled Isla,” I reply. “Four years now.”
“Oh, I see. A family affa
