The Becks were the best foster family that she had ever had. It was late before Jonathan ventured to his own house, where he remained up all night, and kept his janizaries and other assistants well armed. He loaded the launch with a thousand pounds—all she could carry—and started home immediately after sundown; but even then he lost from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds before he had the stuff cached in McClintock's bamboo-covered sawdust pit. It must be some days before you can arrange for her to make an identification. It was a huge stone placed there by some workmen occupied in repairing the structure. She took a shower after a particularly harsh volleyball debacle only to find that her locker had been picked and her outfit of the day, gray sweatpants and a shapeless pink sweater, were gone. She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones. Now, abruptly, they were real again, though very distant, and she had come to say farewell to them across one sundering year.
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