“Is he crying? I lean forward for a better look and find him staring right at me.Oh,no.Oh no oh no oh NO.He stops. "Anna?""Um.Hi." My face is on fire. I want to rewind this reel,shut it off, destroy it.His expression runs from confusion to anger. "Were you listening to that?""I'm sorry-""I can't believe you were eavesdropping!""It was an accident.I was passing by,and...you were there. And I've heard so much about your father,and I was curious.I'm sorry.""Well," he says, "I hope what you saw met your grandest expectations." He stalks past me,but I grab his arm."Wait! I don't even speak French, remember?""Do you proise," he says slowly, "that you didn't understand a single word of our conversation?"I let go of him. "No.I heard you. I heard the whole thing.”

“Had I known you were waiting, Miss MacFarlane, I would not have lingered,I assure you."Flattery was something she knew how to deal with, and it was much better than this odd heat that simmered between them. "What a pretty compliment, Lord MacLean. I don't know what to say."He bowed. "I merely speak the truth. I daresay you've heard such before.""And I'm certain you've spoken such before."Amusement twitched his lips, though he said gravely, "I am sorry if you were left waiting on my arrival. I hope you were not bored.""Oh,I managed to keep busy.""I'm certain you did," he replied, almost under his breath.”

“He thinks about it for a moment. "All right. I'll go firts"He takes a deep breath.Do you know what a bidet is? One of those fancy toilet things with the hose to was your-"I know what it is," I cut him off.Well. I didn't. At least I didn't when I was ten. We were on vacation in New York when we got to the room, I went into the bathroom and saw it there. And I just stared at it for a while trying to figure out what it might be."This isn't going to end well, is it?"Finally, I did figure it out. Or at least I thought I did."You didn't!"Oh, yes I did. I called out, 'Mon, Dad, there's a water fountain in the bathroom.' They tried to rush in and stop me, but they were too late."....This spring I took the SAT at the comunity college. About halfway through the test, I adjusted the way I was sitting and-"He cuts me off. "Oh, my God. You're Fart Girl!"Fart Girl?" I say, mortified. "You mean, you heard about what happened?"He started laughing. "I didn't hear about it. I heard it. I was there, in the same classroom. I didn't know who did it, but I definately heard it." He laughs some more. "The whole section was cracking up.”

“TODD!" I yell again and I reach him and his Noise opens even farther and wraps around me like a blanket and I'm grabbing him to me, grabbing him to me like I'll never let him go and he calls out in pain but his other arm is grabbing me back - "I thought you were dead," he's saying, his breath on my neck. "I thought you were dead.""Todd," I say and I'm crying and the only thing I can say is his name. "Todd.”

“You're just afraid," I flung at him. "Of what would happen to you and your life at court if you were to carry Elisandra away. Of what your father would say. Of what Bryan would do to you."Now he, too, looked angry. "I am afraid of many things, but those are not the fears that keep me from action," he said.I turned my back on him. "Then I don't understand you," I said.I heard the door open. "No," he said, "and you never have.”

“Sorry,” I say to my father. “Hope we didn’t wake you. After last night, I wanted to check on Harlin’s arm.”He tilts his head like he is absolutely sure I’m lying. “And how is his arm, Elise?” he asks.“Uh . . . better?”My father stands motionless for a second, and then he shakes his head and walks into the kitchen. I hear the clink of cups, and then the running of water for the coffeepot.“That was a nice save,” Harlin says, sounding amused. “So detailed. Like a nurse.”“Shut up, Harlin,” I say, trying not to smile. “I didn’t hear you offer anything better.”“You sure you didn’t want to tell him we were playing doctor? That might have sounded more believable.”I turn quickly and swat at him. He laughs, dodging my swing, and catches my hand. “I would tackle you right here,” he says, leaning close. “Pin you and kiss you. But with the luck we have in your house, someone will walk in. And then what will you tell them?” he whispers. “That you were giving me CPR?”“Stop!” I slap his shoulder again.”