She threw off her blanket, sprang out in the torch-lit dark and dived under the bed. But the midnight feaster girls couldn’t bite beyond a crumbled cookie and crunch a few crisps when they heard footsteps. Adult footsteps...

Here the story froze for a moment as one saucer-eyed kid wet his lip, the other gulped tensely. They knew how it ended. Yet they never tired of my mother-in-law describe dorm adventures from her Panchgani boarding schooldays.