CHAPTER 8
When Claire left her room the following morning to go for breakfast – starving, although she had thought she’d never feel hunger again – she noticed a ray of light on the floor to her right along the corridor. It could only mean one thing.
Dressed in canvas shoes, she tiptoed along the corridor, careful to stay on the long rug in case the rubber soles of her shoes would squeak in the otherwise silent house and alert whoever may be in the room to her presence.
The last door on the right was open. It was open wide enough for her to squeeze in. She listened outside for a moment, then decided that she could hear nothing from within and stepped in.
Like the rest of the house, there was no one in the room. There never was, and now that she had George for company, Claire wasn’t sure
