Please please please please… I don’t know if someone heard my prayer, or if it was just that invalid archeologists don’t get out that much. In any case, Dr. Slaski’s attendant answered the front door, recognition dawning when he saw that it was me who’d been ringing the bell with so much urgency. “Oh hi, Susan,” he said, getting the name wrong, but the face that went with it right. Sort of. “You looking for Paul? Because far as I know, he’s still in school—” “I know he’s still at school,” I said, stepping hurriedly inside the Slaters’ foyer, before the attendant could close the door. “I’m not here to see him. I stopped by to see his grandfather, if that’s all right.” “His grandfather?” The attendant looked surprised. And why shouldn’t he? For all he knew, his patient hadn’t had a lucid conversation with anyone in years. Except that he had. And it had only been a few months ago. With me. “You know, Susan, Paul’s grandpa isn’t… he’s not real well,”
