7
Rue
Dryas gets a phone call while I’m finishing breakfast. He ignores it the first time, but when the second call comes, he takes it. Fishing his cell phone out of his pocket, he looks at me dryly.
“I wouldn’t run if I were you. Otherwise, make yourself at home here.”
And then he disappears, answering the phone in a language I don’t understand. Another layer added to the puzzle that is Dryas.
Looking down at the used plates and forks on the counter, I bite my lip. He said to make myself at home…
If I were back at the convent, I would do the dishes without question. Getting to my feet, I stack our plates and carry them over to the sink. I screw up my face, looking around the granite countertop for an apron. The dishes must be done, but I don’t dare get dishwater on this dress.
Afte
