*Summer*
Coming in through the rear door, I step into the kitchen where a single lamp rests on the large wooden table, where I had left it before departing for my late-night excursion. Drawing comfort from it, I walk over, placing my walking stick on the table, wrap my hands around the back of a chair, drop my head forward, inhale deeply, and try to stop the trembling that had overtaken me from the moment I had seen Dion standing there. He knows where I am. How long has he known ?
Swinging around, I return to the door, check the lock, and ensure it is secure. Not that it would stop him, but I can’t imagine him breaking into the home of a religious order. Surely not even he would be so sacrilegious.
Pressing my forehead to the door, I fight back tears. Having him so near, talking with hi
