The way I did.”We walked in silence for awhile before she spoke. “My brother. Omer. The one you met. He had PTSD.”I turned my head. “You never...told me.”She shrugged. “We don’t talk about it much. The family, I mean. Something that happened in the West Bank. During his service. I never got the details. I know that he took a long time to recover from it. He went a different way than you. Drinking, drugs.” She looked up. “There’s groups.”“Not for me.”She sighed, looking down as she walked beside. He said he'd phone to make arrangements.By then everyone was ready to relax so Abby and I put our robes on and we drank more coffee as we watched a TV show. David switched it off when it ended as he wanted to discuss the paintings with the artists. He turned to Abby and me. "You girls must be tired after all that modelling. Why don't you have an early night?" He looked at me and winked. What a tactful soul!Abby and I went to our room. We couldn't wait. Unfortunately there were two single beds.. More

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