The gates to The Great Hall of Salvation has long been closed, but she managed to enter unseen. The aircon was powerful, and so no one noticed the faint ruffle of foolscap paper that hinted of her presence. The Tutor of the class was as stately and elegant in her poise as ever, but those koyoks on her back, plus her packets of Panadol, betrayed to the intruder the intense punishment her frail, lithe body was subjected to.
