Chapter Four
Alia didn’t show at my cellar door the day following our punishment session with the bundle of switches. They remained unused, soaking in a bath of pungent vinegar.
This time, however, Alia’s behavior had an excuse, no negligence involved—Harry had stayed home that morning. They both remained inside the house until later that day around two o’clock, when I saw them standing in their yard outside.
Curious about what they were doing, as if I had the right to know about their lives, I wandered outside like the nosy neighbor and pretended I was pruning some bushes that I’d just pruned the day before.
When my gaze at last met Harry Gale’s, I stopped working and walked his way, extending my hand in an enthusiastic greeting.
“Marc Landon, pleased to finally meet you,” I said
