At the top of the stairs I stood outside the door wondering which of the girls I was sharing the house with might be in there, and if the door was latched. Then I wondered what my excuse would be for barging in. Then I remembered how loud my bed was and thought there may never be a better time to go rub one out, as no one would hear me with the shower running.After what felt like forever, my curiosity got the best of me and I gently pushed at the door. It moved open around 2 inches. "The latch is off" I thought. I looked inside and could see the white shower curtain moving as the running water hit it. I pushed the door some more, trying to slowly open it without any telltale noise. Just as I had it open enough to creep in, the door gave me up with a distinct "creeeek"."Cassy, is that you?" Tori's voice called out. I waited, holding breath afraid to move. "Cassy?" she called again. Almost in a full blown panic, I put my mouth in the crook of my elbow and answered in a muffled. A shadowy young woman appeared in the frame, walking into the entrance of the building. There was a pause, and then lights in the doorway came on. The young woman turned back to look at the street, as if afraid of being followed, or, as Val suggested later, looking back because something was telling her that if she entered, her life would not be the same thereafter. ‘It’s Maria?!’ Dean sputtered out the name. ‘You know her?’ Margaret asked. ‘In a way.’ She was heavier than he remembered her, but she had a figure that might have lent itself to that, if she was not taking care of herself. Dean squinted at the vague pictures, but felt certain that he was seeing the soft-eyed young Greek-American woman who he thought he had rescued from the rogue French intelligence group that seemed to be circling toward some sort of objective around Denver’s Summit Conference. He outlined a bit about her to the group, holding for himself the velvet feel of her curves pressed hard against him in.
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