She needed no more lessons. The third time had taught her the lesson she would never forget. Even if it took the rest of her life, she would recover from this third lesson, because she felt that it was her duty. But a fourth would kill her. Then it struck her that the future was no longer connected to the past. And her mind was made up. “The future’s somewhere else,” she said into the air, in the dark, wrapped in sheets that no longer smelled of her husband.
