CHAPTER 25: Maggie
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Maggie lay on the Saint Andrew’s Cross trying to barely breath as the seconds ticked by. The yoga and Pilates classes she’d taken were helping her to focus and hold steady. The three cherries weren’t even wiggling. She glanced at Terry. He was dealing with this better than expected. He didn’t like it when his games went off script.
“My nose is very itchy.” He scratched the side of his nose.
Her eyes narrowed. Here was the Terry she knew—hyper-competitive.
“Boy, time is sure going slowly.” He faked a yawn.
“You are such an ass.” A yawn built in her throat, threatening to make her inhale deeply. “I am not going to yawn. I don’t need to yawn,” she mumbled to herself.
“What’s that?” He leaned toward her. “Speak up. Your lips are moving but I can’t hear you.”
