Chapter Five
"Xana," Peter said, when I picked up the phone and answered "hello".
"Peter?" I was surprised to hear his voice.
It was July, already six weeks at the beach. I wanted it to go on forever.
"Happy Birthday," he said.
"Oh, yes, that is next week, isn't it?"
"I wouldn't forget."
"Really." He had some motive behind the call, he had to. I listened for his typical gloating tone.
"I suspect we'll need to remember these things, by fall we should be used to this and be able to work together again."
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"I think we should be able to handle the new arrangement if you want to come back now."
"I'm not going back to the Institute," I said, surprised that he’d even mention the possibility.
"Xana . . ." he droned in patronizing exasperation.
