CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Ara - a Path, a Way, a Line of WeavingHana raised a hand to knock on the front door and gasped in shock as it disappeared before she’d readied a suitable expression. She felt as though her face screamed my-son’s-having-an-affair-with-my-friend, but Whaea stood in the gap with a broad smile stretching her lips from ear to ear. “Welcome,” she said before stepping aside. Hana made a strangled noise which emerged as a mewl and kicked her boots off on the porch. The sound of female voices and loudly spoken Te Reo stopped her in her tracks. She almost hadn’t come, her mood indicating she wouldn’t find her ara today. The thought of meeting new people filled her with misgiving. It wouldn’t take a genius to spot the gaping holes in her enforced calm.
“I’m sorry,” she breathed
