By the time I slipped into our bedroom, Quaid was already sliding under the covers. I had yet to tell him about my day, or he me about his, but from the weary look on his face I knew it would have to wait.

Still, the issue of Gabriel was too troubling to let go. I hopped up onto the bed, hands toying with the hem of the sheets as Quaid sighed and settled into his pillow, bare arm dark against the cotton.

"Gabriel seems to think ...