Raw grief spluttered from her body as she got up from the desk and stepped over the envelope that had flopped onto the floor. She locked the door and went to sit on the sandstone window ledge with her legs pulled up and chin resting on her knees. Arrows of rain were striking the leadlight window panes with such ferocity she could barely see across the quadrangle and, once again, she could not stop the flow of tears.
When Mack arrived home that evening, Lisa had almost finished reading Mai’s paper. She looked up when he entered.
“I’m reading a paper about Adi.”
“Not the one by the evil temptress?”
“Not funny. It’s made me think about all the things that shape us as we grow up … how indelible that all is.”
But he wasn’t listening. “I’ve got something to tell you,” he said. “I’ve met som
