She slipped down the perfunctory flight of stairs, short because of the home’s split-level style. “Is this true, Annabel? Is he dead?” She nodded. ‘Perhaps I could indeed rescue you if only you would confide in me. We just hit against each other, and here we are flying off at a tangent, a little surprised at what we are doing, all our principles abandoned, and tremendously and quite unreasonably proud of ourselves. Lucy sat in the back seat as the trio sped through intersections in the old sedan. I was forced to lay on a bed of nails for three days. “Listen, Annabel,” he said hoarsely. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat.
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