Four Scotches and four hours later, Mathilda Reine Moone was fast asleep. She reclined to the far left, her face serene, almost joyful, as if she were dreaming of tiptoeing through a vast sunny field of daisies. A couple of sedatives on top of the Scotches had undoubtedly contributed to the feeling-no-pain slumber.
There was some serious sleep to catch up on, so Rey and I had seen no reason not to get to bed early. But sleep wasn"t coming easily, maybe because of the over-fatigued factor. Certainly the trucks chunka-chunking past and the guard pacing past the door and chatting sotto voce on a Smartphone weren"t helping. My cousin, I was pretty sure, was mentally rehashing the events of the last few days, because she was normally a restless sleeper, and at the moment she wasn"t moving a mu
