“So how is your stay?” Emily sat awkwardly beside Doran, who was sitting on the veranda stair once again. She hugged herself tightly. She was cold, because it was cold at night here, but she could still feel a bead of sweat dripping down her back. Tonight was the night. She’d figure out where he’d come from.
The more she thought about it, the less his connection to the family made sense. His family wasn’t Jewish. They weren’t from the same little town in Russia, couldn’t be, she’d checked the website. So how had he wound up here?
“My stay continues to be wonderful.”
As Emily contemplated the swaying grasses and the sliver of moon, deciding how to start, her stomach made a sound like a whale’s song. She clutched her hands over her midsection.
He stood. “I should let you warm up.”
Emily
