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"Poor Annie . . . my poor, poor Annie." He
stroked my hair affectionately, and when I looked into
his eyes, I saw the warm concern again. He was just
too complex, too confusing for me. I just couldn't deal
with him on top of everything else anymore. All I
wanted was to leave here.
Suddenly the light in his eyes changed. "This sweater you're wearing. Where did you
get it?" he demanded.
I didn't want to get Troy into any trouble, but I
couldn't lie about it. Tony had gone through my
wardrobe after Drake had brought everything, and he
knew what clothing was hanging in the closets here
and what was in the dresser drawers.
"Someone gave it to me," I said.
"Someone? Who?"
"A very nice man who lives in the cottage on
the other side of the maze," I replied, deciding to
pretend I didn't know who Troy really was.
"The other side of the maze? You went through
the maze?"
"I'm tired, Tony. Very tired. Please. I don't want
to talk anymore. I just want to sleep."
"Yes, yes. I'll help you undress," he said,
reaching down to help remove the sweater.
"No! I can do it all myself. I want my privacy.
Just leave me be!" I demanded. He pulled back as if I
had slapped him across the face.
"Of course," he mumbled. "Of course. I'll let
you rest and then see to your dinner."
"Thank you." I didn't move, to show him I
