Chapter Twenty-Seven
At twilight time, printed in black letters ten inches tall, on eight by eleven inch white paper cellophane taped together, the sign above the front door read WELCOME HOME.
“Thank you, Randy, for the sentiment,” Robin acknowledged paying attention to his thin body and new clothes: gray Dockers, and a charcoal shirt, his face illuminated by good looks and his dark hair scattered.
“Our Master’s gift,” he replied, keying the lock and arming Slut54 through the door opening. “Everyone is glad to have you home.”
“Who’s everyone?” She wondered aloud.
“You know,” he said with a shrug, “Peg, Robert, me, our Master.”
Robin cast her eyes at the yard. Little had changed during her absence, not the yellow brick house walls, nor the redwood stockade fence, or the blacktop dri
