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Beth leaned back from her laptop as dusk began to settle over the city, and she realized she was growing increasingly edgy. Edgy at being alone all day in a virtual stranger's apartment. Edgy that the night might bring some answers to her when Asher arrived. Edgy that she couldn't just go home and be safe.

Indeed, whatever it was, it had deprived her of that most basic human need: a home.

And Soren, much as he attracted her, was an odd bird indeed. Not just his illness—a quick online search had given her the name for it—but odd in that while he had food in his fridge, a fridge too clean to be believed, and food in his cupboards, none of it was opened or used. Despite his invitation, she had hesitated to open those packages until hunger drove her to it.

Of course, she might be making too much of it. He might have just had it all deliver, but it did seem odd that not one thing was open except the coffee, and he'd opened that bag last night.

She didn't know anybody who finished everything in the cupboard before restocking. There was always an open box of cereal, or crackers or something in the cupboard or fridge. Always.

He must be the ultimate clean freak. Or maybe he ate out, and just kept food on hand in case.

She sighed and stretched widely, loosening muscles that had tensed from hours bent over her computer. At least her writing had gone well. Very well.

But with only the sounds of the city to keep her company all day, even though she was not alone, another kind of tension seemed to have crept in. nothing like the feeling in her condo of course, but tension nonetheless.

A bad feeling loomed over her, and she hated it, especially when all she had to point was that unnerving sense of not being alone in her condo. Was she losing her mind?

No, she reminded herself. Soren had sensed it, too. And then insisted that the pewter plate had been thrown at him. Much as she wanted to dismiss it, she couldn't. that plate was too heavy to move on its own, not had it been set in such a way that it could just fall. But every time she told herself he must have been kidding, she remembered the look on his face. He believed it had been thrown. So either he was totally crazy or it was true. Believing him crazy would have been easy except for what she had already experienced herself, especially last night.

Of course, he was beginning to seem a little less like a paragon of sanity, given the state of his fridge. The darn things never looked that clean and his looked as if it had never really been used.

A quiet little laugh escaped her at her own ridiculous thoughts, just as she heard the door behind her open. She swiveled immediately and saw Soren emerge from his bedroom. It was just now dusk, she hadn't yet turned on any lights, and he appeared like a mysterious figure, almost otherworldly.

"Good evening," he said.

"Hi."

"Did your day go well?" He asked the question as he bent to turn on a lamp. Now that he no longer appeared quite so mysterious, she noted that he apparently awoke looking every bit as awake and put together as he had the night before. No sleep-puffed eyes, no helter-skelter hair.

"Fine," she answered, summoning a smile. "I was just calling it a day on my work."

"I hope you found enough to eat."

Which led her to the question that had bothered her all day. "Don't you ever eat at home? I couldn't find anything open."

He paused. "Well, actually, I mostly keep food on hands for guests. I'm no cook and when I want something I just order it. I hope you didn't hesitate to open things so you could eat."

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