Chapter 16When Lyne woke the next morning, the sofa was empty. It was all a dream, she thought, standing in the shower. Except it didn’t feel like a dream. She could remember all too easily how near Frederick had stood, before her mirror and in her kitchen. How his fingers had brushed hers across the table at dinner as they both reached for the salt.
Not to mention his entire story.
Frederick had clammed up after mentioning the Octopus, and she had run out of questions to ask, dwelling on all that he’d said. He’d seemed grateful for a shower. She forewent brushing her own teeth and, while he was still in the bathroom, made up a bed for him on the sofa. Then she locked herself in her bedroom. Just in case.
All he’d done, though, was call out a polite good night. Then she’d lain awake, li
