As she stood in the pouring rain, getting increasingly drenched, Celeste thought wryly back to the afternoon three years ago when she had first applied to volunteer at the Paris Olympics. On applying, she had pictured herself handing out medals. She’d imagined that maybe she’d be in charge of sharpening fencing swords or helping the equestrian horses or some other cool role like that. But no. Here she was, holding the umb...