When I came home from work one evening, Clementine was nowhere to be found.  But Boris hung in a corner of the shower insert.  He looked smug, and I immediately suspected him of foul play.  Fear and anger mixed as I both worried about Clementine and jumped to the conclusion that Boris was responsible for her disappearance.  As I said earlier, I didn’t like him from the start, and had no reason to trust him.  But something caused me to withhold the hand (and toilet tissue) of judgment and wait awhile to see if Clementine’s absence was temporary, and if I had misjudged.

CLEMENTINE: A SCARE

Boris?
Boris.
What have you done
with Clementine?