Chapter 9
Mary checked her appearance in the mirror a second time. As expected, the humidity had already coaxed rebellious tendrils of hair from her bun. A nest of nervous knots tightened in her stomach. Time to go. Before leaving the bathroom, she fished out the little lavender sachet from her purse, clutching it as she drew a few deep breaths and began her mantra. “Red, orange, yellow...” she whispered, the colors of her mantra for calm. “...You have taught many classes. You are prepared, you can do this. 加油!”
She left her office thirty minutes early, a necessary precaution against her notoriously terrible sense of direction. The walk from the Humanities building to the classroom was, on a map, a short and simple one. Mary had practiced it during her campus tour, her mind consciously memorizing landmarks, a gnarled oak, a blue bench, snack h…
