CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Opening the door, Sarah stops in her tracks. How has she let the room get this filthy? She looks across the room. Piles of clothes strewn about, shoes tossed carelessly, and towels along with bathrobes lie near the screen. She walks up to the towels, picking them up, and balls them in her arms.
Peter watches Sarah clean, sniggering to himself. She never could be a slob. Neither could he. Apparently, they have been a lot more distracted than usual. Neither one of them ever let their room at home get this bad. Sighing, he searches the room for his doublet from yesterday. Spotting it in the corner of the room near the couch, he makes his way to it, trying not to get in her way as she bobs and weaves about. Grasping the doublet’s collar, he lifts it, and all the papers f
