The Secret Circle:
Out of the Darkness
The Secret Circle and its characters aren't mine – they belong to L. J. Smith and HarperCollins Publishers.
Chapter Three
"They didn't threaten us, not really," Diana was saying. She was sitting on a blue-painted bench in Mrs. Howard's garden – Cassie's and Mrs. Blake's garden, Sean corrected himself – where the Circle had gathered after school.
"They told us we're not welcome here anymore! I'd say that's a threat!" Deborah's eyes were fierce. She looked feral as she paced along the narrow garden path. She looked ready – even eager – to go after the outsiders.
Raj, who was lying in front of Cassie and Adam, watched her intently, as if waiting for an invitation to play.
"Technically, it isn't a threat," Melanie said. "Nobody said that they would do anything to us. They didn't even say they might do something to us. They just said we aren't welcome. And that's … an opinion. Besides, it was just one group of people who said that."
"It was a big group," Sean said.
Doug looked at him. "It was nine or ten people."
"I doubt they're the only ones who share that opinion," Faye said.
Cassie shook her head. "They're not. I'm sure Portia and her brothers haven't changed their minds about us."
"Cassie's right." Adam stood beside her. He looked protective. Territorial. As if he were eager to dare any outsiders to challenge Cassie or get in her way – and then stop them. "The witch hunters won't let one failure stop them for long."
"But not everyone shares their opinion," Diana said.
"That's true. And we've got to start working with the ones who don't. And we need to focus on environmentalism," Laurel said from her seat beside an ancient apple tree. "We need to protect Mother Earth. What a few outsiders may have said doesn't change that. Because if we don't, who will?"
"Yes," Melanie said. "Environmentalism is important. But improving relations with the outsiders has to be our first priority."
"We can try to get along with some of them," Doug said grudgingly. "But if they try … if they start anything …" his eyes glowed fiercely.
"We're going to finish it," Chris said.
Deborah and Faye nodded their agreement.
"What do you think we should do, Cassie?" Adam asked.
All arguments ceased. Everyone turned to look at the Circle's newest – and youngest – leader.
She looked good. Her blue-and-white sweater and blue jeans fit perfectly. Her long hair gleamed in the sunlight. Her sea-blue eyes – they were mesmerizing. She met Sean's eyes for only the briefest of moments as she looked around at everyone in the Circle, but he couldn't look away.
Cassie looked at Adam.
Adam nodded at her, encouraging her. She seemed to draw strength from his confidence.
"I think … I know we need to improve relations with the outsiders. With all of them – even the ones who hate us. We need to at least come to an agreement to leave them alone if they leave us alone. But Laurel's right. There are other things we need to do, too. We do need to protect the Earth, like she said. And Melanie wants to learn more about the Master Tools and decide what to do with them …" she stopped.
"Faye wants to hex people," Deborah offered.
"I hope it's none of us she wants to hex." Doug said, grinning wickedly at Faye.
Faye shot him a look, and turned to Deborah. "Sure I do. But I also think we should find a new principal."
"I think the school board will do that," Diana said, looking at Faye. She looked confused.
"Of course they will," Faye said, turning to face Diana. The challenge in her bearing and in her glowing golden eyes belied her bland smile. "But I didn't particularly care for the last principal our school board hired. It's … possible … that they could have chosen a better candidate."
Cassie laughed. "That's the understatement of the year."
"Or of the millennium," Adam said, grinning.
No one reminded Faye that she had liked the last principal well enough, before.
"Are any of your parents, or Granny Quincey or Great-Aunt Constance or Mrs. Franklin, on the school board?" Cassie asked. "I think my grandma was. Or else she knew someone who was.
"Aunt Constance is," Melanie said. "She's the assistant chair. Mrs. Henderson is the secretary. And Mrs. Howard was a member, too."
Cassie nodded and turned to Faye.
"We can talk to them and ask them to suggest that the school board look for a different kind of principal than the last one they hired," Faye said.
"Yeah, like one who's human," Doug said.
"And sane," Chris added.
"One who isn't afraid of us – and who doesn't hate us," Melanie said thoughtfully.
"I think we should try to find other Witches and tell them about what happened here and see if they have any suggestions – or if they want the position," Adam said.
"Other witches?" Cassie asked him. Her eyes were wide with astonishment. "I thought you … we … I thought we were the only ones –"
"We're the only surviving descendents of the Witches who founded New Salem," Adam said. "At least, we're the only ones that we know of. But there must have been other Witches alive in 1692 besides the ones who lived in Salem and came here to found New Salem. At least some of the others must have descendents who are still alive. And some of our ancestors' descendents may have left New Salem, to pass as outsiders and give up the old ways –"
"Like my mom," Cassie interrupted.
Adam nodded.
"And some may have left to join other Witches – and even outsiders who've become witches," Laurel said. "Not hereditary witches who can call on the powers like we can, you know, but people who've adopted some of the old ways. And who've gone to work as activists against war, and nuclear weapons, and nuclear power, and to work for animal rights, and to protect the forests and rivers, and –"
"Yes," Melanie interrupted. "There are other Witches out there. And there are a lot of people – including outsiders – who care about at least some of the things that are important to us."
Faye nodded impatiently. "We know that. And I, for one, think it would be better if one of those people was our new principal than, say, a professional witch hunter."
There were a few nervous laughs from the Circle.
"She's right," Adam said. "We need someone who will be on our side – or at least someone who won't be out to get us. Someone who won't try to continue the policies Brunswick instated."
There was a murmur of assent around the Circle.
"Well, why don't we do all of those things? I mean, well, maybe not hexing anybody," Laurel said, casting a disapproving glance at Faye.
Faye looked at Laurel and raised an eyebrow. She didn't say anything, but her eyes were cold.
"Hexing someone – that's kind of personal. It wouldn't be a project for the entire Circle," Diana said diplomatically.
Faye turned to Diana. "Perhaps you're right," she said mildly.
"Diana is right," Laurel said. "We should try to do everything we've been talking about. Including trying to make sure the school board hires a decent principal this time. And we can start an environmental club at school – with the outsiders. We can help out with the recycling program and plant trees and make sure the cafeteria sells organic vegan food every day – you know, things like that. And we can learn about the Master Tools and work with them when it's just us – like at ceremonies."
"She's right," Sean said. "And, uh, we can … we can drive less. You know, we can bicycle or walk instead. Or at least carpool."
Laurel smiled at him.
Melanie glanced at him disdainfully, but she nodded solemnly at Laurel. "Yes. But I don't think an environmental club would make much difference –"
"Of course it would!"
"I mean, it won't make much difference with respect to the relations between us and the outsiders. Outsiders who would join an environmental club aren't likely to be the ones who'd join a witch-hunt."
"But it would be a start," Laurel said. "We'd be working with some of them – we'd get to know each other better."
"Misunderstanding arising from ignorance breeds fear, and fear remains the greatest enemy of peace," Adam quoted. "So conversely – well, getting to know each other would be a start."
"That's true," Suzan said. "Maybe we'll all find out that we share some of the same interests. Like the Yule Ball."
Laurel nodded. "And recycling. That's something most people already do. Most of the time."
"Change won't happen overnight." Diana said thoughtfully. "Even if something like Laurel's environmental club only makes a little difference, it'll be a start. And we don't have any better ideas – that is, nothing concrete."
"Sure we do," Doug spoke up. "We got ideas. Like a party, you know? To make up for all the birthdays we missed? I want a beach party like Adam and Nick and Melanie got."
"Okay by me," Deborah said.
"Kori didn't get a party for her birthday," Chris said quietly. He glanced sideways at Sean. So did Doug.
Sean flinched and looked away. He stared intently at a fallen maple leaf, its crimson brilliant against the tans and browns of the chipped bark path – but he could still feel their eyes on him. Predatory eyes. And he was the prey. Just like before, when Doug and Nick and Adam had jumped out at him from behind his locker and grabbed him, and Doug and Nick dragged him through the school and outside into the parking lot and into Adam's Jeep – and the way they looked at him …
He shuddered. Their eyes – even Doug's – had been as hard as diamonds. And they didn't say anything when they dragged him inside the Jeep, or during the long drive to Adam's house. None of them said a word. And then they dragged him inside Adam's house. They held him still and pulled off his belt and they wouldn't let him go and he tried and tried to escape, and Deborah was there too, and Chris, and Laurel, and they were all staring at him as if he was the rabbit and they were the wolves and they pulled off his sweater and his shirt and his belt and they wouldn't let him go and he couldn't get away and they took off the leather pouch that he was wearing and they dumped him in the bathtub and they told him that he had … that he had betrayed them … and he had … killed …
A furry head nudged him.
Sean jumped. Raj was standing in front of him, staring at him intently, his ears flat against his head. The dog whined, and nudged Sean again.
"Hey, Sean! You okay?"
Sean looked up. Suzan was looking at him oddly. Laurel was watching him, too.
"I-I-I … uh, yeah. I … I'm fine." He looked away and turned back to Raj. The big dog was still standing there, watching him.
Sean scratched the dog behind his ears. "Thanks," he whispered.
Raj wagged his tail.
Sean glanced at the others.
Laurel and Suzan had turned away from him and were listening to something Diana was saying. Chris and Doug were arguing.
"Okay. Fine. We won't have a birthday party this year," Doug said, scowling at Chris.
"Well, I think you should," Faye said. She was watching Chris with an odd expression. "Think about it, Chris. Kori loved birthdays, and holidays – and parties. She'd want you to have a real party."
Chris looked at her dubiously.
"What if we held a party in her honor?" Diana suggested.
"Like a – what's it called? A wake?" Laurel asked.
"Yes," Nick said.
Doug glanced at Chris, but didn't say anything.
"Next Monday's Yule," Suzan said suddenly.
Everyone looked at her.
"I'm just saying – we could have a Yule party instead of another birthday party. And it could be in Kori's honor. She always liked Yule."
"What do you think?" Cassie asked Chris.
"I, uh … I guess that would be okay."
"Doug?"
"Sure. That's fine by me."
Cassie turned to Faye. "I don't know very much about Yule," she said. "And I don't know the first thing about organizing a party. What do you –"
"I do," Faye interrupted. Her usually predatory smile was genuine – and enthusiastic. "I'll organize it. It'll be … fun."
"Thank you," Cassie said. Her smile at the older girl seemed forced.
Sean looked at Faye, who was saying something to Suzan. He hoped Faye would remember that not everyone in the Circle shared the same ideas of "fun".
"Diana?" Cassie turned to the Circle's first leader. "I think … well, you know a lot more about Witchcraft than I do. It's going to take a lot of work to figure out what, exactly, we need to do – to improve relations with the outsiders or to start a club or … well, whatever else we need to do. I don't know the first thing about where to start. What do you think we should do?"
"Well, I guess Laurel and I can organize an environmental club at school," Diana said thoughtfully. "We can talk with a couple of teachers who might be willing to agree to be the teacher advisers. I'm sure Laurel would be willing to suggest ideas for projects at the first meeting."
"Of course!" Laurel said enthusiastically. "And I'll talk to outsiders who I think might be interested."
"I also think we should have a Yule ceremony, in addition to the party. Faye, do you want to –"
"You can lead the ceremony," Faye offered magnanimously. "We can have it right after the party."
Sean stared at Faye. All three of the Circle's leaders – even Faye –were not only speaking to one another civilly; they were actually working together. He hadn't thought the triumvirate leadership arrangement the Circle agreed to at its last official meeting would work at all, not with Faye as one of the leaders, but maybe he'd been mistaken. Cassie seemed to be taking the initiative to be sure it would work – and Diana and Faye were already not only listening to her – they were following her example.
"You can help me plan the ceremony," Diana said to Cassie. She was practically glowing with pride as she looked at the younger girl. "In the meantime, it's getting late. I think we should formally end the meeting, unless anyone else has anything to add.
No one did, and the Circle gradually broke up.
* * *
There was a light on in the kitchen when Sean got home. His father was standing at the counter beside the sink.
Sean walked inside. "Hi, Dad," he said quietly.
His father looked up from the plate he was drying. His expression was grim. "Sean. It's late – and it's a school night."
Sean looked at the pine-board floor. He didn't tell his father where he had been. Mr. Dulany did not approve of the Circle at all. "I … I'm sorry. I'll, uh, I'll finish my homework tonight. I don't have that much." He headed for the stairs.
Mr. Dulany sighed. "Have you eaten yet?"
Sean stopped at the foot of the stairs and shook his head. "No."
"There's pasta and sauce on the stove and salad in the refrigerator. Go ahead and eat first. Then finish your homework."
Sean nodded. "I will."
"I've got some reading to catch up on," Mr. Dulany said. He was already walking toward the stairs. "Good night."
"Good night." Sean ate quickly, washed the dishes, and hurried upstairs to his room. He finished the last couple of problems of his algebra homework. He took out his physics text, read the chapter about batteries and resistors, and worked through the calculations of voltages and currents. He finished the assigned pages of French translations. He put the homework and textbooks away, pulled out his guitar, and played.
The waning gibbous moon was high in the eastern sky when he finally put the guitar away. Maybe tonight he'd be tired enough that he could sleep – sleep, but not dream.
Sean turned out the lamp and climbed into bed.
Tired as he was, it was still a long time before he fell asleep. And he awakened, yet again, well before dawn, terrified and drenched with sweat. But this time he couldn't remember what he'd dreamed about.
Nor could he go back to sleep. It was still dark, even after he worked out on the gym and got ready for school. He took his guitar out of its case and played until the sky began to lighten and the sun rose.
* * *
Two strangers wearing business suits, a tall, heavy man with short hair and a neatly trimmed mustache and a young woman with long brown hair pulled neatly into a ponytail, were sitting near the front of the classroom, talking with Mr. Harrison, the teacher, when Sean walked to his first-period English class.
Sean's heart sank. The strangers were police – they had to be. And they must be here to question him.
He hesitated, tempted to leave before they saw him. But they'd find him, eventually. He might as well get it over with now, before the other students arrived.
He opened the door and walked inside.
"Good morning, Sean," Mr. Harrison said.
"Morning," Sean replied quietly, forcing himself to look up at the teacher.
Mr. Harrison was watching him. His eyes seemed sympathetic.
"Sean, these folks are police detectives. They'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind?" Mr. Harrison asked. His deep voice sounded hesitant – almost apologetic.
Of course he minded. He didn't want to be interrogated by the police. He wanted to run, to get away from them, to stay away from their questions and their accusing eyes.
He didn't run. He looked at the strangers nervously. The woman was watching him, patiently. Her dark eyes seemed kind. The man was looking at his watch.
They aren't accusing you of anything, you idiot. Calm down. They probably got a tip about the Club being involved in Mr. Brunswick's disappearance. They're going to ask everyone questions. You knew that already. You've got to answer their questions or they'll get suspicious and they'll find out –
"I'm Detective Mitchell," the woman said. Her voice was low-pitched and calm. "This is Detective Schneider." She hesitated for a moment, still watching him.
Sean waited silently.
"You're Sean Dulany?" she finally asked.
He nodded.
"And you live on Crowhaven Road?"
He nodded again.
"We apologize for taking you away from class," the man said in clipped, brisk syllables. "We'll finish as quickly as possible. In the meantime, please come with us."
Sean stared at him in horror. Come with them? Where? Why? They hadn't even asked him anything yet. They couldn't already know about what the Circle had done to Mr. Brunswick – no, to Black John – or what the Circle believed he'd done before that – could they?
"We'll just go down the hall, to the staff room," the woman said. She sounded amused.
Sean glanced at her.
She was trying to hide a smile. "You're not under arrest," she said. "We simply have some routine questions we need to ask various people – including many of the students here – regarding the disappearance of your principal, Mr. Brunswick."
Sean nodded. He didn't relax, but the feeling of incipient panic faded to a vague anxiety. He followed the woman down the hall into the staff room. The man walked behind him.
The woman gestured to a chair, and Sean sat. A tape recorder stood on the table in front of him. The man sat nearby, in a chair at the end of the table. His eyes were half closed as if he were nearly asleep.
The woman sat across from Sean. "As I said, we need to ask you some routine questions," she began. Her voice was calm and patient. "We will be taping this, so please state your answers verbally. Are you ready to begin?"
Sean nodded hesitantly. "I … uh, yeah. Yes, ma'am."
"Thank you." She reached across the table and pressed a button on the tape recorder. "Please state your full name and address for the record."
"Um, my … my full name is Sean Cierán Dulany." He spelled it for them, and told them his address.
"And you're a student at New Salem High School?"
Obviously, he thought.He nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I … I'm a junior."
The questions went on and on – seemingly inane questions about school, and the classes he was taking, and the other students who lived on Crowhaven Road.
And then the other detective spoke up. "Tell me what you know about Jack Brunswick," he said. He was sitting up alertly now, watching Sean intently.
Sean hesitated. He couldn't tell them the truth. They wouldn't believe him anyway."Uh, he … he's the, uh, the principal here," he said instead. "The new one. He just started a couple of weeks ago. And I guess … I guess he disappeared or something last week. They, uh, they canceled school and everything on Thursday and Friday. After the hurricane."
Both detectives were nodding. "When did you see him last?" the woman asked.
Sean hesitated again. Mr. Brunswick. She's asking about Mr. Brunswick. Not Black John. "I … I don't know. I, uh … I don't remember if I saw him last Wednesday or not. I … we all left early, because of the storm."
"So you last saw him at school?"
He nodded.
She looked pointedly at the tape recorder.
"I … I'm sorry. Yes. I last saw him at school."
"And you don't remember when that was?"
He shook his head. "No. It was before … before the storm. The, uh … the hurricane. But I … I don't remember what day."
"Have you seen him, or spoken with him, outside of school?"
"I … uh, yeah. I've seen him. He went to … to Mrs. Howard's funeral. Just before he started at school. But I didn't say anything to him."
The detectives looked at each other.
Don't ask if I've spoken to him outside of school any other time. Please, please don't ask that. He must have, if the other members of the Circle were right about him telling Black John things about the Circle. But he couldn't remember.
"Who is – was – Mrs. Howard?" the woman asked instead.
"Mrs. Howard … um, Maeve. Maeve Howard. She … she was my next-door neighbor. At Number Twelve. Um, Crowhaven Road. And she … she … she's Cassie's grandma. And … and …" his voice broke and he stopped. To his horror, tears filled his eyes. Mrs. Howard had been more than Cassie's grandma. She'd been like a grandma to him, too. She had always been kind to him and willing to teach him new things – not just reading and writing and math, but how to plant and tend a garden, prepare food, chop wood, and fix things around the house – even when his own father told him he was too little, even when everybody else thought he wasn't smart enough. And now she was gone.
Stop thinking about her, he told himself fiercely. He looked up at the detective. She was talking again. "Okay. She was a close neighbor. And she died recently?"
He wiped his eyes on his sleeve and nodded. "Yeah. On Diana's and Faye's birthday," he said, relieved that his voice sounded almost steady despite the lump in his throat. "Um, November 10th. There was a … a fire at her house. And she, uh … she had a heart attack."
There were more questions. About the people who had been killed – Kori, and Jeffrey Lovejoy, and Mr. Fogle. About Mr. Brunswick. He heard himself answering their questions – or trying to.
Finally, it was over. Both detectives thanked him for his time and walked with him back to class. Sean hurried to the empty seat next to Suzan, trying to ignore the stares of the outsiders.
Suzan looked up from her notebook. "What happened?" she whispered as Sean sank into the chair.
"They … they asked me about Mrs. Howard," he replied irrelevantly.
But Suzan just nodded. She didn't ask him any more questions. She looked toward the teacher's desk, where Mr. Harrison was saying something to the two detectives. All three of the adults were looking at her.
She turned to Sean. "I guess I'm next. Um, we're supposed to be writing an essay about … whatever. A subject of our choice. It's supposed to be at least five paragraphs, and we're supposed to type it tonight and turn it in tomorrow."
"Okay. Thanks," he said. He glanced at her notebook, where a sketch of a dolphin jumping out of the water was taking shape.
Suzan followed his gaze and smiled. "I haven't started mine yet." She looked at the front of the room. The three adults were walking toward her. She rolled her eyes. "I'd better go. See you at lunch." She put her notebook and pencil away and picked up her backpack.
"Okay. Good luck."
"Thanks." She walked over to the teacher and the police detectives. Mr. Harrison said something to her. She shrugged and followed the detectives out the door.
Sean glanced at his backpack, but he knew he wouldn't be able to write a decent essay. Not now. He left the backpack shut and turned to the window, staring vacantly outside and waiting for the bell to ring.
"Are you all right?" a deep voice asked quietly from above him.
He whirled around, staring up wildly. His heart started pounding.
The teacher was standing next to his desk, looming above him.
Sean cringed.
Mr. Harrison took a step back and sat in Suzan's empty chair. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to startle you."
Sean stared at him mutely.
The teacher watched him for a moment. "You don't have to stay in class if you're not feeling up to it right now. The class is writing essays; I'll give you the assignment tomorrow."
Sean nodded. He didn't trust his voice to speak. He grabbed his backpack and walked out the door and through the empty hallways. He started running as soon as he was outside. He ran past the parking lot, past the old science building.
A joyful bark sounded from the grove of red cedar. Raj galloped toward him and jumped up to greet him. Sean silently rubbed the dog's ears and walked past the trees to the granite outcrop just below the summit of the hill. He climbed across the rock and scooted into the crevice beneath the overhang. Raj followed, lying in front of Sean. It wasn't a spacious seat – the space beneath the overhang was barely deep enough even for him to sit upright – but it was screened from the school and from the road. No one could see him unless they knew where to look – or decided to climb the rock and look inside the crevice. Sean leaned against the rock behind him and closed his eyes.
* * *
"Sean? Are you in there?" It was Laurel's voice, calling from somewhere nearby.
Raj barked once and ran out to greet her.
Sean wiped his eyes roughly with his sleeve. "I … yeah. I'm here," he said. His voice was barely more than a whisper.
"Hi, Raj," Laurel said. "Sean! Can you hear me? Answer me!"
"Yeah. I can hear you."
Laurel climbed across the rock and stopped in front of the overhang. Raj followed her and lay down beside her, in a sunny patch on the rock. "Sean? Are you in there?"
"Yeah."
"May I come in?"
"Yeah."
She crouched down and sat underneath the overhang, near the edge. "Are you okay?"
He shrugged. "Yeah."
"Why don't you come on out? Everybody's meeting out front for lunch. I think the police questioned everybody in the Club today. Let's go find out how that went."
He shook his head. He didn't want to face anyone. And he didn't want to answer any more questions. Not even from the members of the Circle.
She looked at him. "Suzan told me about this morning. She said you did fine. The police believe you. They don't think you did anything wrong."
He shrugged. "I know."
Laurel sat quietly for a few minutes. "I miss her too. Mrs. Howard was … special. She always knew what to say, what to do. She was like a grandmother to me. And a friend."
Sean looked up and nodded. "Yeah. She … she was."
"Um, you're not really planning on staying in that cave all day, are you?"
He grinned wryly. "I guess not."
"Good." Laurel climbed out and stood up. "It's much nicer out here."
Sean followed her out and stood, stiffly, blinking in the bright sunlight until his eyes adjusted.
Laurel looked at him sharply, but kindly didn't say anything about his appearance. "Let's go find the others," she said instead. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and stood, waiting for him to join her.
Sean hesitated, and shook his head. "No. I … I'll just go to the library."
"But Diana and Cassie and Faye want everybody to be there," Laurel said. "So everyone will know what's going on. Besides, Suzan's worried about you."
Sean bit his lip. He didn't say anything.
Laurel waited. "Please?" she said, after a moment.
He sighed. "Okay." He picked up his backpack and followed her toward the school.
Raj walked beside them, his tail waving, as they walked to the front of the main building. The rest of the Club was already there, sitting near the granite outcrop by the stairs. Raj ran ahead to greet Adam, Cassie, Diana, and the others.
Sean looked down at his sneakers as he walked toward the other Circle members. He sat beside the rock, leaning against it. He didn't look at the steps, or at the bottom of the hill. He didn't look at anyone, not even when he felt questioning eyes watching him. He stared at the closely cut grass in front of him and waited for the questions he knew they would ask.
But nobody said anything to him. He looked up. The Club members were sitting near him, eating lunch and talking about the morning's events.
"They're a couple of idiots," Doug was saying. "They asked me if I knew any of the victims. What'd they think? Kori was our sister! And they knew it – they knew my last name, and hers. And they'd already talked with Chris!"
"And they should have guessed that you and me are related," Chris said solemnly.
Doug laughed. "Yeah, they should have," he agreed. "Our last name is a dead giveaway."
Chris grinned.
"They were just doing their jobs," Diana said. "They asked what they were supposed to ask. They probably didn't expect to learn anything from any of us, so they weren't really thinking about what they were saying."
"It was a total waste of time," Suzan complained. "I was supposed to be working on an essay for English. Now I'm going to have to write it at home."
Sean glanced at her sideways.
He looked away when she caught his eye, but he almost smiled.