Clara thought carefully about her next words. And standing right in front of Dylan, it seemed even more difficult to think about the next thing she was going to say. She tried raising her chin up to look him in the eyes but her words seemed to stick in her throat like glue.
"Is your tongue glued, Clara?" Dylan asked, the hint of sarcasm evident in his tone.
Clara cleared her throat, trying to loosen her voice box.
"No," she finally said.
"No, what? No that your tongue isn't glued or no that you don't remember anything that happened last night?"
"No, in both instances."
"Are you sure?"
Clara sighed. "A lot of things happened last night. We ate dinner, I took my bath, you took yours. And the rest was history."
"Okay. Why did you say no, then?"
"Well, I know you are a very smart man,
