She asked the inevitable question, the one she knew Michelle was waiting to field like a quarterback anticipating the pass. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. ‘Home?’ ‘To your family. “It was a phase,” she said. She calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners. ” Part 4 They lay side by side in a shallow nest of turf and mosses among bowlders and stunted bushes on a high rock, and watched the day sky deepen to evening between the vast precipices overhead and looked over the tree-tops down the widening gorge. “Then you need to find someone else. She winked at him as he shut the door. And yet to Spurlock it was only the title of a story he would some day write.
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