He thought of his wealth for once from a different point of view. What a fool I was to separate the two in my mind. ‘No, let me guess,’ he interrupted. What about your real mother? Wasn’t she also a foster child? Michelle told me that she was suspected of murder, some people named McFerrin, McDougal. . She agreed entirely with her brother. Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. She felt sickeningly empty. Your purpose is done. But I do not love you.
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