now he felt Jones’ presence more acutely than before, that alpha trailing behind him. “There’s not much here, it’s a small place.” But he showed his professor the books—novels, self-help, comics—along with the stuffed animals and Get Well cards. The little snow globes and dream-catchers, some beanies and scarves. Then they reached the rack of snacks. “Oh, you have my favorite cookies,” Jones said, grabbing a couple packs of those cream-filled chocolate sandwich cookies he had in his office. “What do you recommend from here?” “The lemon-cream wafers are really good.” Only because Caulin had
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