Her freckles were ready and waiting, as were her lips, her ears, her
hair. Her broken leg still needed time in its cast,
MBT Raha, but her hands
could paint.
Where are you, Rachel?
As though in answer to the question, she moved her eyes.
chapter twenty-two.
JACK LEANED CLOSER. Rachel? Her eyeballs were moving behind their
lids.
"Rachel? " She could have been dreaming. "Rachel, wake up! Come on,
honey. I know you hear me. Open those eyes. Open those eyes." The
movement continued for a minute,
mbt barabara shoes, then stopped. He waited. Nothing.
He grabbed her shoulders, finding them so thin and frail that he held
gently,
mbt shoes, but he held. "Don't go back to sleep, Rachel. Please don't.
It's time to wake up! " But she was doing it again, using the round
bristle brush because someone told her to use the bristle filbert.
"Okay." He removed his hands and straightened. "You want to sleep,
sleep. It's your choice. Me, I'd like to talk with the people who've
been so kind as to come here. I'd also like to wake up in time for a
showing at P. Emmet's.
I wouldn't want to work so long and hard to build a career to the point
of being invited by a ############## like that, only to sleep through the
whole damn thing! " He crossed his arms and stood back, frustrated
enough to be angry.
"She's doing this deliberately, " he told Faith. "It's a control
thing.
She's getting back at me for years when she thought I was controlling
her, but it's her fault for not speaking up. She never talked about
control. What did she say? I don't like San Francisco. I don't want
to live in San Francisco. I don't want to be alone in San Francisco.
So what did she do?
She left me alone there. Gave me a taste of my own medicine. Well, I
learned. Isn't that enough? " Faith simply smiled her sweet, sad
smile.
RACHEL didn't move her eyes again, but by the time Jack brought the
girls, her lids were ajar. Not much. Just enough to see a tiny rim of
white. Just enough to spark the fear that she