Sarah’s POV:
My feet cannot move me fast enough through the door of the Murray’s large verandah to where I know I have some clothes to cover myself up. My heart is pounding in my chest as my wet feet plod against the clean floors. I probably should have dried them off, but all I want, no NEED, right now is to find somewhere to sit and think. A space away from all the imposing thoughts in my head. I rush to my bag, my hair still wetly laid against my pebbled n*****s and I grab my shawl.
“Sarah is everything…” My mother says and I quickly move past her, not even bothering to listen to what else she may have to say. How do I tell my mother that every part of my body, heart and soul yearns for the man who is currently playing with my children in the pool? What would they all think? My eyes
