The way Lia studied his hand gave George a sense of unease. It was clear on her face that she saw much more there than random crisscrossings of lines and folds. He'd never given palmistry much thought, as one hand looked quite a bit like any other to him.
"Yeah, yeah," he said, trying not to sound annoyed, "no one is ever gone from our lives until they're forgotten." He sighed and made an effort to come back to being receptive. "I'm not sure what you mean," he added to her last remark, "isn't it the same thing?"