----Elaine---
The kitchen was blessedly empty when I slipped inside. Relief washed over me, though it was bitter at the edges. Someone had humiliated me on purpose, I knew that much. The last thing I wanted was to advertise the fact by being seen in this state. My socks and shoes squelched with every step, each one a reminder of the puddle and the red sports car that had sprayed me. I peeled them off quickly, leaving them by the door. Barefoot, I padded upstairs to my room, carrying the heavy shame clinging to me as stubbornly as the mud on my skin.
I stripped off my filthy clothes, piling them in the corner as though I could also strip away the sting of humiliation. But it lingered, sharper than the sting of the stones that had pelted me. When I turned on the shower and glanced into the
