” He put his hands on her shoulders and lowered her onto the flat surface of the picnic bench. ‘You make me talk, you make me talk. . " "Why, surely you don't think your guests would steal them," observed Rachel, archly. Michelle’s eyes were red and bloodshot. Crouching down, Gerald waited, hands at the ready. Inside was Anna, leaning a little forward to watch the passers-by, bright-eyed, full to the brim of the insatiable curiosity of youth—the desire to understand and appreciate this new world in which she found herself. “Who did you live with before the Becks? I hear things.
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