He watched as Deirdre removed the last of the electrodes from Marla’s temples, a strong, silent support that Marla greatly appreciated. “We’ll see you tomorrow at the same time,” Mark called out as she rose and went to Steele. “Yeah, I’ll see you then.” She waved goodbye to her team members and allowed Steele to lead her out of the room. “I hope you like spaghetti,” Steele told her, taking her down the winding corridors of the Sterling compound. “I make it from scratch.” Marla was impressed. “I don’t think I’ve ever had spaghetti that didn’t come straight from a box before.” “I like to cook. It gives me time to think,” he said. “I’m lucky if I can make toast without burning it,” she chuckled. Steele led her through hallway after hallway until Marla was completely disoriented. Finally they came to a door, which Steele opened and allowed her to step through first. Steele’s apartment was a working contrast against its owner. Where Steele was large and strong, much of his décor was delicate and homey.
