ened with an

ots, and the sound they made on the stones was l

e coat, the duffel, the dust, and said, "Deli

oked at h

Arthur Dean his biological

s face. He got it half a second l

dn't

- her father - grey at the temples, jawline like a hatchet, a Wall Street ty

her amber eyes, Deidre thought, and finding her,

idn't work properly.

all and put his

hands stayed up in the air for a moment, useless, before she set them lightly on his back. He was shaking. He did not s

it. Eighteen years. He had not kno

ve, an ivory foldi

gical mother - stood at the rail and looked down at the coat, the boots, t

e on the marble banister and her face arr

ok at her. She must have suffered so much in that te

looks like something that came up out of the

d held Deidre at arm's length, han

k. "What happened to your face? Harrison was su

ek from the sidewalk. She

. It was not

the crowd," she said.

jaw wen

what people did not say, and he had just read it, and what he was go

, clicking, and Eleanor swept into the

the kind of smile you put on for a

iberate. "Though I have to say - your appearance

oked at h

trained so thoroughly that contempt showed in only two places: the corners of th

y. She didn't say

," she said. "Th

ile sl

a long day, Eleanor. Don't start on

leanor said, and the fan i

issed what had just happe

of all

th her arms open and

've waited so many yea