didn’t say anything and Toby turned to go. Behind my back I heard him closing the cage door. I wanted to look at the paintings all on my own. I didn’t want to be afraid, but my mother was right. The place was like something out of a horror movie. “Toby?” “Yeah?” “You could stay … you know, if you want.” He smiled, and before I knew it he was back in the cage, stretched out on the chaise longue, pouring a drink from one of those fancy crystal bottles. “I won’t watch you,” he said. “Pretend I’m not even here.”
