Chapter 7: Drawing, Elongating the YarnHe followed me with ease to the bedroom as if he recognized my presence in the room as familiar. Yet, he retreats to the sofa when I enter the kitchen.
Parcae searched momentarily for a prop. Then, she spotted the dark blue hand towel hanging next to the sink.
“Oh, what a pretty hand towel. Who’s SL?” Parcae asked, holding the towel, noting the fancy embroidered S and L.
It stands for Star of the Lake, Mark explained from the sofa. It’s the hotel on Lake Lana. We spent a weekend there. Sammy liked it, so I stole it for him.
“Star of the Lake? Quite fancy,” Parcae mused, as she stepped up to the window where she could easily see Mark and note if he acknowledged her voice came from the kitchen. He sat, not relaxed, yet not erect. His back rested on
