CHAPTER 16
There is indeed another bedroom, three of them actually, side-by-side at the far back of the building. I wonder whose room I’m currently crashing in. Probably Ryder’s. I’m not sure why, but it feels right. Maybe it’s the way the sheets smell.
Mack’s room is very obviously his—everything is huge like the man himself. The mattress is extra long, maybe a special order. The pants over the back of the chair in the corner are too long for any mere mortal. The jackets hanging on the wall are made for giants.
I imagined I might stitch Mack up in here, away from the others, but Ryder retrieves a sewing kit from the top drawer. “He’s needs to make a lot of modifications to his clothes.”
“Ah.”
“What else do you need?”
“Tweezers,” I say as he heads to Mack’s attached bathroom—why does
