\"I've got some chores to do and I usually cook dinner on weeknights. She looked round wildly, as if seeking some source of help, as the boots halted at the front door and the shouting intensified. . . Hold your hand for a moment. Her fingers found the lump she sought and, with a little effort, she dragged out the black-wrapped foil. She did not see Sebastian turn towards the boy and his family, but every hair on the back of her neck stood up rigidly. Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, don't let her suffer for anything I've done. The idea of your being a failure would never have occurred to me. She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart.
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