…The intruder drew nearer, now he was at the side of her bed, now he knelt on the edge of the bed itself. His hand reached toward her cringing body, his fingers touched the flesh of her bare arm. She screamed.

And came awake to a vivid flash. A thunderous roar reverberated through the room. She stared about her in confusion. Again lightning flashed, revealing an empty chamber, again thunder rumbled, and she realized with a surge of relief she had dreamed not once but twice.

With a hissing rush, the rain began, a heavy rain that drummed on the roof. Justine swung from her bed and when, in the flicker of the lightning, she saw the rain slant beneath the balcony roof and into her room, she hurried to the French doors, intending to close them, only to pause when a wave of cool, invigorating air swept over her.

After a moment of hesitation, she left the doors open and stepped out onto the balcony into the long-awaited rain, the cooling, cleansing, life-giving rain. She raised her arms, lifted her head toward the sky, feeling the insistent beat of the rain as the water soaked her hair, streamed down her cheeks and molded her thin gown to her body.