Chapter 17

*

To a soul which has never tasted grief, the sight of Afrah curled up on her bed would have seemed strange and unwelcoming. Although the guests downstairs had very nearly forgotten about the little 'incident' from earlier, it was all she could think about. Her clothes lay discarded at the foot of the bed, her sheets were rumpled up and her pillows were thrown all over the room, each landing in a different location after being catapulted with a surprising strength, usually accompanied by a cry of anguish.