The haze of unconsciousness had cleared completely, by the time the strange man found perch on her armchair. She glanced down the hallway without meaning to, hoping against hope that Megan had already left for work. She didn't know who this man was, but as she hugged Errol's jacket, she hoped that he wasn't what she feared.
"How did you know where I lived?" she asked, knowing that it wasn't the question that mattered - not really. It was: "Did he give you his jacket?"
All her suspicion was in the last question, reverberating through the peaceful cottage. Errol, she knew, could take care of himself. It was difficult for her to imagine that one man could harm him -- even if he were armed. But as Beauty crushed Errol's jacket tighter against her, she wondered just how she'd gotten it. Frowning, she looked down at it, then back at this John Preston.