The rain returned on a Saturday night and didn't stop for thirty hours.
I was asleep in the apartment when Tessa called. I answered at 4:18 a.m. and heard water in the background.
"The lower garden is flooding," she said. "The drain by the potting shed has backed up."
"I'm coming."
I pulled on jeans, boots, and the yellow umbrella. By the time I reached the conservatory, the water had already crept across the service path. The rain hit the glass roof so hard that the whole building seemed to shiver.
Daniel's truck was parked beside the loading door.
He stood knee-deep in water near the old drain, directing the overnight security guard to move equipment. His jacket was soaked through. When he saw me, he pointed toward the greenhouse.
"The pump failed," he said. "I called Mason."
"Is
