“Really?” He was amused.
“You love the spotlight, Carrie,” Will offered his unwelcome observation.
I could feel the spotlight glaring down as though I were a suspect being grilled by a fat District Attorney with a thick cigar and a trail of smoke. This conversation hit all the right nerves, and it was unexpectedly arousing.
“It’s all the more reason to believe what Chris mentioned earlier,” Will went on.
“The slave thing?”
“Your whole being betrays you, Carrie,” Chris said, “even your dreams.” Though he was smiling, the gentle words cut deep as though they were goring me in my gut.
“Maybe so,” I almost whispered.
“It’s interesting… the house did have the history you’re suggesting,” Chris informed us. “Your Sir and Madam Haliday were authentic—but then I told you about that myself,”
