Susannah’s heels clicked on the marble floor as she walked toward Rita’s office. She was trying very hard not to smirk, and was almost succeeding. She knew the man waiting at the reception desk would be watching her closely. Reaching the office, she knocked, entered, and closed the door behind her. “He’s waiting out there…

January, 1982. Baking heat sank through the slate tiled roof, through the flimsy insulation batts, through the pressed metal ceiling and into the bedroom. White nylon curtains, limp and dirty, covered half the window. The other half presented a view of a makeshift driveway, a paling fence, and the house next door - brick and…