11
JAKE PUT OUT A hand to grip the doorframe as a distinct memory came to him. In his younger days in the military, he had been part of a peacekeeping force sent to Rwanda in the aftermath of the g******e. The piles of clothing and shoes on the edge of mass graves were all that was left of the Tutsi people, butchered with machetes and farm tools. Those piles in turn had echoes of Auschwitz and the Nazi death camps … and this room, the floor deep with shoes that seemed to have no owner. Whatever the color of a person's skin, it seemed that humanity would always seek to destroy those viewed as Other.
"Are you OK?" Naomi's voice broke through Jake's reverie.
He let out a deep breath. "Yes … sorry. I was just remembering something that happened a long time ago."
"I know this looks like the
