Abby began to read--rather, Abby's eyes began to read. Abby was somewhere else, detached, watching this happier and simpler body do the work with delight. Abby was happy for Abby's body, happy to see her so relaxed, so blissfully ignorant of consequences, anxiety, or fear. The work came easily to her. The sentences were always bad, and the words were always hollow. Now, Abby's body had no filter. She could release the floodgates of her true thoughts. It didn't matter if Camille liked her feedback. Camille's happiness wasn't part of the equation at all. There was only Laura's happiness and Abby's happiness. Abby's happiness was Laura's happiness. Laura was the only meaningful thing in this room. Abby watched Laura touch Abby's body, her hands reaching around and playing with Abby's breasts while Abby read. Abby's body moaned, and Abby moaned with her, both as happy to be in Laura's will as they were to be touched by Laura.