She recalled reading that fear of the irrevocable was the only true definition of sanity. She also recalled finding that sage. So now, pronouncing her...elf nerveless, she could draw only one conclusion. And in the drawing felt uncertainty reassert itself. ‘Calm, calm,’ the same inner-voice warned as her eyes closed to conjure up the picture. Her picture. A glade. Backdropped by shimmering sea. Autumnal. Tranquil. Yellow leaves diffusing bright sunlight as a soothing breeze stirred the branches. She was fifteen, four years younger than Stacie, and not a terrifying person in any way. Besides, I reasoned, if Stacie was to be part of the family it was about time that she met at least one of them. In the end, she agreed. I phoned Heather, and the visit was arranged.Heather was the only daughter of my sister Sally and her husband Jean-Pierre Lemire. Sally was a thoracic surgeon, and Jean-Pierre was in real estate. Between them, they probably made significantly more money than I did. Heather. More

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