(Sandy's Perspective)
Remarkably, not only are the three of us on time to the induction ceremony that evening, but after that little three hour nap this afternoon, we're all bright-eyed and rested.
Of course, that also meant that the second bedroom paint didn't get finished.
Nor did we get Dorian's Range Rover unloaded and get the stuff he purchased assembled.
But in the minutes after the three of us gather in the overgrown courtyard of the hotel where many of the survivors of the attack on the Desert packhouse are still living, all of those lesser things seem suddenly trivial. Especially by comparison to what we're about to face.
At least we'll be doing it together.
Watching quietly from one of the cement benches, Darby and Ian smile like ridiculously proud parents. Which I suppose in some ways, they sort of are. Maybe more like older siblings. Kind of. It's weird really.
Mentors, I guess is more appropriate.
