CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Peter sobs, leaning his head against the door, and looks up at the ceiling through the wobbling and warping tears remaining in his vision. Why did he say for her to go? Why did he yell at her at all? Snubbing, he turns to his hands hanging off his knees, and the tears fall to his tunic for the hundredth time. He should look for her. It’s too dangerous for her to be out there alone with no map or sense of direction. Sighing, he rubs his face, being more aggressive with his eyes. But, where to start? Huffing, he sniffles, looking off to the side of the bookcase. With no knowledge of where she’s headed, he can’t possibly follow. Maybe he should stay put for when she returns. However long it may be.
After a ten-minute walk, Sarah gets to a large set of pine doors. She push
