People began filing out, clustering around the counter for souvenirs. Darcy threw herself into hostessing, not wanting to think about the note anymore, but the message had burned itself into her brain. “Yes, I have lots more postcards of the Dracula exhibit.…” You are my chosen one. “Yes, sir, the guillotine is real—and sharp.…” Jake was in my room last night … bending over me … watching me sleep.… “I’m not sure about the Space Cannibal—I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that movie.”
