As we return carrying trays and pots and mugs, the two barely notice us. They’re sitting across the table from each other, arms outstretched, their fingertips touching. Michael glowers.
Oh, c’mon…
They’re old friends…
“When you said, I'm here and safe,” Charlotte is saying, “what did you mean?”
His mouth works….
Choosing his words?
“After you left the farm, a man came looking for you, a police officer, or he claimed to be...”
“Yes, Tom told me that.”
“Tom? You've seen Tom?”
“Yes, it turns out he was spying for the people who sent me there.”
Chad’s head jerks back. “Was he indeed? The Blessingmoors people?” She nods, her face falling. “Jenny…” He slides his hand over hers. “It's alright. When the news broke about that place, all the pieces suddenly fit together…” He stops speaking
