Malia followed Grace down the stairs, her tight hair-bun bobbing up and down in front of Malia. Focusing on something mundane, like Grace's hair, sapped the charge out of the pending moment when Malia would greet Charles again. Their encounter at the window was so intense and fast; it was strange to meet him again so soon under entirely different circumstances. And why had he bolted away without even saying goodbye? That upset her.
Malia pondered why he had done that and whether she had the right to feel so upset as Grace led her through a maze of rooms, each more exquisite than the last but old and untouched; nothing updated. Malia surmised that Mr. Dunn had no interest in home decorating. He was too busy motorcycling and sparring.
They came to a wood-paneled door hued with an amber pat
