On Wednesday, Beth stared out her classroom window at lunchtime. She had never seen anything like it—hurricanes and nor\'easters had nothing on the series of storms that had recently pounded Hampton County as well as every county from Raleigh to the coast. The problem was that unlike most tropical storms, these weren\'t passing quickly out to sea. Instead, they had lingered day after thunderous day, bringing nearly every river in the eastern part of the state to flood levels. Small towns along the Pamlico, Neuse, and Cape Fear rivers were already knee-deep in water, and Hampton was getting close. Another day or two of rain would mean that most of the businesses downtown would be reachable only by canoe. The county had already decided to close the schools for the rest of the week, since the school buses could no longer make their routes and only a little more than half the teachers had been able to make it in. Ben, of course, was thrilled by the idea of staying home and playing in the puddles with Zeus, but Beth was a little more leery. Both the newspapers and the local news had reported that while the South River had already risen to dangerous levels, it was going to get far worse before it got better as the creeks and tributaries fed the rise. The two creeks that surrounded the kennel, usually a quarter mile away, could now be seen from the windows of the house, and Logan was even keeping Zeus away because of the debris washed out with the deluge. Being trapped indoors was hard on the kids, which was one of the reasons she\'d stayed in her classroom. After lunch, they\'d return to their classrooms, where in theory they\'d happily color or draw or read quietly in lieu of playing kick ball or basketball or tag outside. In reality, kids needed to get their energy out, and she knew it. For years, she\'d been asking that on days like this, they simply fold up the cafeteria lunch tables and allow the kids to run or play for twenty minutes, so they could concentrate when they returned to class after lunch. Not a chance, she was told, because of regulatory issues, liability issues, janitorial union issues, and health and safety issues. When asked what that meant, she was given a long explanation, but to her, it all came down to French fries. As in, We shouldn\'t allow kids to slip on French fries, or, If they do slip on French fries, the school district will get sued, or, The janitors would have to renegotiate their contract if they didn\'t clean the French fries from the cafeteria at the time they were scheduled to do so, and finally, If someone slipped on a French fry that had fallen on the floor, the children might be exposed to harmful pathogens. Welcome to the world of lawyers, she thought. Lawyers, after all, didn\'t have to teach the kids after keeping them cooped up inside the classroom all day with no recess. Usually, she would have retreated to the teacher\'s lounge for lunch, but with so little time to set up the classroom for activities, she\'d decided to stay and get things ready. In the corner, she was setting up a beanbag-tossing game—stored in the closet for just such emergencies—when she noted movement from the doorway. She turned that way, and it took her an instant to register who it was. The shoulders of his uniform were wet, and a few water droplets dripped from the belt where he stored his gun. In his hand was a manila file. "Hi, Beth," he said. His voice was quiet, "Do you have a minute?" She stood. "What is it, Keith?" "I came to apologize," he said. He clasped his hands in front of him, the picture of contrition. "I know you don\'t have a lot of time, but I wanted to talk to you when you were alone. I took a chance that you\'d be here, but if it\'s not a good time, maybe we could set up another time that\'s better for you." She glanced at the clock. "I\'ve got five minutes," she said. Keith stepped into the classroom and started to close the door. Midway, he paused, seeking her permission. She nodded, wanting to get whatever he had to say over with. He moved toward her, stopping at a respectful distance. "Like I said, I came here to tell you I was sorry." "About what?" "About the rumors you heard," he said. "I wasn\'t completely truthful with you." She crossed her arms. "In other words, you lied," she stated. "Yes." "You lied to my face." "Yes." "About what?" "You asked if I ever ran off some of the guys you\'ve dated in the past. I don\'t think I did, but I didn\'t tell you that I did talk to some of them." "You talked to them." "Yes." She did her best to keep her anger in check. "And … what? You\'re s............