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The Uninvited

The Uninvited

The Uninvited

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don’t feel anything.But I do feel something, of course. <strong>The</strong>usual suspects: confusion and overload.It was Martin Yeh who was supposedto be dying. Of cancer. Not Sunny Chen, of– what? A heart attack. Of course. I seethe da Vinci diagrams. An artery blocking,a ventricle in spasm.‘How did it happen?’I’m aware of Ashok taking a deepbreath. ‘Sorry to lay this on you too – butthe guy killed himself.’ He pauses. ‘As in,suicide.’ I must have made a noise ofsome sort – a sigh or sob or groan orsomething. ‘You OK there?’ says Ashok.‘No.’‘Jeez. Like I say, I’m sorry. Take yourtime, my friend.’‘Yes.’ We are not actually friends.

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