26.
THE SAME DAY, THE FIFTH of November, 2017, Houston. What a blessing, Lyn thought, sitting on a lounge chair in her backyard, the Sunday-morning sunshine streaming through tree branches and the air cool and dry, a Houston miracle. The sun flashed off the pool when a breeze rustled the tree leaves. The pool water was clean and sharp when she’d plunged into it minutes before. Water dripped from her hair onto her shoulders. It’d been an extravagance, having the pool put in. She spent so many hours at the office that the pool was like an ornamental shrub. Her plunge just moments before probably cost several hundred dollars. But she had no regrets.
She leaned her head back to face the sun, thinking for a moment to put on her bathrobe, draped on a nearby chair, and deciding not to. It was p
