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Derek picked the spot? Had he been hoping I'd be blinded by the morning sun and stumble off the edge?

Kelley Armstrong

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Kelley Armstrong
Age: 55
Born: 1968
Born: December 14
Novelist
Writer
city of Sudbury
Sarah
Morning
Blinded
Picked
Hoping
Spot
Spots
Edge
Edges
Derek
Sun
Stumble

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I glanced up to see Liz and smiled. Thank you. I just went along for the ride. After that happened- She waved at Derek. You know how blind people need Seeing Eye dogs? Well, apparently werewolves could really use Opening Door poltergeists.
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He balled up my discarded sweatshirt and put it against his shoulder. “Go on,” he said. “I don’t bite.” “And from what I hear, that’s a good thing.” He gave a rumbling chuckle. “Yeah, it is.” I leaned against his shoulder.
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I was...a journalist...though my typical beat was freelancing articles on Canadian politics, which never included any mention of demonic phenomena, though it might explain the rise of the neoconservatives.
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The look she gave me reminded me of when is was seven and I'd proudly informed out housekeeper that I'd donated half my clothing to a charity drive at school. It had seemed perfectly sensible to me-I didn't need so much stuff-but she'd stared at me like Margaret was now, with a mix of horror and disbelief.
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Derek looked around, like he was searching for something to use. Then he stripped off his shirt. I tried not to look away. Not that he looked bad without his shirt. The opposite, actually, which is why...Let's just say friends are really better when they're fully clothed.
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Just show him that I didn't need his apology, I guess. Show him that I was okay. Better than okay. I was happy, in spite of everything he'd done to me, and no, I didn't forgive him. God help me, I would not forgive him.
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