It started just like any other day. She got up at five, scrubbed her face and brushed her teeth, ate her usual bowl of rolled oats with sliced bananas and 1 percent milk. She dressed in her navy blue uniform, pulled her mousy brown hair back into a tight bun, put on the same coat…
The house at 322 Dixon Road looked much like all the others in the neighbourhood: semi-detached, two-story, brick — painted white, dark grey door, enclosed front porch, with a bedraggled end-of-March-looking front yard covered in dead leaves, depleted-looking soil and straggly shrubs with the odd snowdrop peeking above ground as if to say, “Don’t give…