2.15
The cockroaches were retiring from their nocturnal activities in the soft light of dawn. Yvette stepped outside to clear her head, inhaling the cool morning air. Sunlight glistened on the roofs of cars, the long shadows cast by houses and trees shortening even as she watched. A sweet afterglow infused her; still wrapped in Varg’s presence, transfixed by his smile. He’d been as attentive in her bed as at the party. Before he’d left—it must have been about two, something about having to be up early—he invited her to a concert at the Fremantle Town Hall on Friday night. That was a week away and there was every chance she’d spend every hour of it mooching, the day stretching before her like the sky, empty to the horizon. She needed to keep busy, needed a distraction. Then, in the steely
