Betty Hamilton was the piano player for the school vocal programs. She was a permanent fixture, and had been, for more than 20 years. She was also, one of my more infrequent stops.

At 56, she was more of a grandmother figure to most of the students. To me, she was something more... she had earned my respect. (Another story, for another time)

She had placed the small blinking light in the corner of the choir loft window that sat over the cafeteria. It meant that she wanted to see me, which normally, but not always, meant that she wanted sex.

Her sexual proclivities were, for the most part, pretty...