She knew this had killed his love for her as his suddenly cold, icy voice said “You’d better tell me Miss Megan MacLean.”She shivered at his for...al use of her name.“Well? Do I know him? How long’s this been going on? Another professor who’s fallen at your feet” he asked bitterly.Each question was a knife in her heart. She wanted to look up at him, but couldn’t.Her constricted throat mangled out “It’s a she. Not a he.”He could make nothing of her words. “What did you say. Come on.You don’t. Even Jen had been there and Jethro had tipped his bottle of beer at her. Even now, she sat there at the gravesite in the second row, behind the team, her eyes red rimmed, her lip trembling.The priest was saying something profound, but he was beyond listening, didn't really care. It had all blurred together anyway, the speeches, the remembrances from the people who had barely known the dead guy. The ones from the team and the director had actually meant something. The letters from the president,. More

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