The door shuts behind her, and I can’t wait. I’m already walking to open it again. “What,” a low, furious voice behind me says, “was that?” Someone is sitting in the armchair in the corner, by the pool table. Half hidden in shadows. I hadn’t seen him, hadn’t thought anyone would be in here. This room is off-limits for the ball. But of course he would know his way around. “Rafe?”
oh FUCK
