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Dez

Mim and I are just about finished cleaning the library when we hear muffled footsteps on the carpeted floor and look up. There’s a man, in a suit, with caramel blond hair and light blue eyes and a sweet smile standing several yards inside of the room. I feel vulnerable for not having detected him sooner. After all, I am a predator. I’m supposed to hear things sneaking up on me--prey, larger animals, people. He has been able to get this far without detection because of Mim, I tell myself, but I shouldn’t have let her stories distract me so much that I didn’t even realize we weren’t alone until a loll in our laughter allowed me to pay attention to my ears a

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