Aden was sitting in a room the colour of a pale dying elephant. There was one window, wide and low to the waist, through which he could see snow falling like dandruff from God’s head hidden above. A woman sat opposite him dressed in a white doctor’s coat. She was thumbing through Aden’s paperwork while hovering a yellow highlighter above it to circle the important bits, like an eagle circling above a sea of fish.
“You understand there’s no going back from this?” she said.