Chapter 8
McDuff eased himself out of bed, moving carefully to keep the mattress from rustling. And himself from grunting.
Despite hardly closing his eyes all night, his body ached and complained much less than it had the day before.
Finally standing with his feet tucked into his warm slippers, he watched Michael sleeping in the just-past-dawn light. In what looked like exactly the same position he’d fallen asleep in the night before. On his side facing McDuff, hands tucked under his cheek like a little boy.
Even with the scars and lines of aging more than his years, Michael looked much like he had all those years ago back in Glasgow. When he and McDuff last slept in a room together without fear and worry and guilt jammed in between them.
When McDuff hadn’t yet learned the habit of fo
