38: Piran
Piran
He’d seen Casey’s rooms before, of course. But it was different being in them for real.
“Nice place,” he said.
“It’s not too shabby.” She ushered him into the main living space—couple of small sofas around a low table, kitchen area to one side with food-prep gadgets and a dispenser that was far better than Piran’s, table and four high-backed chairs, soft lighting from hidden sources.
“Food should be here in a few minutes,” she said. “I’m going to freshen up. Make yourself comfortable.”
She disappeared into the shower room with a smile. Piran a the glimpse of a decent-size room with white tile that shone, and knew it would have all the facilities—self-clean units, auto-control shower heads, full range of soaps, air-dry. And there were no sounds from within once the
