True love, sir, is possessive and cannot bear to share with all the world.
-Moliere
“I can ask Mom about the key to the door.” Xavier said quietly one night as Rose entered his room in her flannel pajamas. September was upon them. Dylan’s recovery was sporadic. It seemed like he would go one step forward, two steps back and Dr. Danvers couldn’t figure out why. Everyone was worried, Josie was distraught. And Rose couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter who was responsible for this attempted murder, they would return to finish the job.
Rose looked at the door connecting their rooms that had always remained firmly shut.
“You don’t have the key?” Rose queried.
“If I did, that night you’d woken up screaming from a nightmare, I wouldn’t have gone through the main door.” Xavier’s voice
