Chapter 7: Hank
I awoke to light coming in through the window and the sound of rain—a gentle, soft rain, which I found comforting. I lay back and stretched—and then froze when I heard a cough coming from the next room.
I sat up. The door was almost fully closed. On the wooden chair hung what appeared to be my clothes. I got up, dressed—stopping when I saw that my shoes were there, too. He must have gone up to the main house. I shrugged and, without putting the shoes on, stood gathering my nerve to face the man who apparently owned, or at least lived in this cottage.
I opened the door and saw him sitting in the armchair before the fireplace, his toes stretched out toward the flames. I walked to the fireplace, stopping where I could feel its warmth and see the man fully, too. He was smoki
