Lucy savored the normalcy of the scene. Water poured into her eyes, nose, and mouth in a torrent from which she had to turn and wheeze. The burden of decision had been transferred. She even thought that perhaps she might come to love him, in spite of that faint indefinable flavor of absurdity that pervaded his courtly bearing. “A girl needs her mother most exactly when she thinks she doesn’t. This is a joke of yours. Swiftly she ran her hands over the carvings, trying to find the lever to the secret panel again. To his relief, she nodded. ” Lucy said, mentally resolving to get to the Joliet Library as soon as possible to see the records Michelle had unburied.
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