Giles didn't sleep at night. Faith knew this, because every night, from the other side of the room in their motel for the night, before she herself fell into a fitful sleep, she would lie with her back turned to him, eyes closed, and listen for the sound of slowed breathing, tossing and turning, or even snoring, to indicate that he too would have rest. But none of this ever came, that she could hear. And when she awakened in the night, as she often did, it was often to find that he had switched on the television and was watching it without sound, staring at the screen without seeming to really see it, or else that he had turned on the lamp beside his bed and was reading, flipping pages almost soundlessly. It seemed to Faith that every night he must lay perfectly still, as if in hopes that if he made no noise, she would be fooled into believing him to be asleep.
She wasn't.