I kept my leg propped up until dinner. The swelling receded and I was able to bend it again. What I wouldn't give for an ice cold beer. Marguerite served dinner at six sharp. She seemed a little upset with Monroe and only spoke to him in clipped sentences when she had to.

Monroe acted as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. "Has Angel eaten her dinner?" he asks Marguerite before she can leave the room.

The older woman's eyes flash and I look between her and Monroe. "I took it ...