It's well after dinner when I give up the ghost and retreat to the bedroom I'm sharing with Dorian and Sean. Even over the regular, lulling rhythm of the ocean, I still catch snippets of conversation from the other room as Darby, Sean and Dorian continue their discussion on a working translation of the hieroglyphs. It doesn't last long though, because I soon fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.
It's hell and gone from 'late' when I feel the mattress tilt and a heavier weight than mine lie down beside me. Fleeting waking dreams of the deep woods surrounding Candlewood swirl in my head as the vanilla-sweetened, leafy-woodsy fragrance peppers the sea breeze and Dorian cuddles up at my side.
