My gaze dropped to his favorite red rope in his hands. The sound of it creaking in the narrow hall sent my pulse racing. I’d seen him practicing knots with it almost nonstop over the past month—while we were on the couch watching TV, just beyond my camera whenever he sat in on one of my filming sessions, even at the dinner table after he’d finished eating. He was like one of those grannies who carried around her latest crochet project everywhere she went, only he was learning all the ways to tie me up with it instead of making me a nice pair of gloves.
