He saw the pair coming out the front doors from his little stone bench, Abby looking like she'd been crying, Mark on her arm with dark glasses on his face, and his white cane swishing from side to side in front of him. Ben rose and approached the pair as they came to a stop. “Still doing that thing, are you?” Ben asked, gesturing at the cane. Mark gave a shrug. “It's a necessity for the moment, Ben, and while I'm not asking you to believe anything I've said today, I would beg you to please not reveal my secret.” “Look, if you want to stumble around as a blind man wearing creepy contacts, that's your business. I'm just going to ask you that you keep that hokey, religi-nut healing crap to yourself. This trip has been a complete waste of time and I'm not in the best mood.” Mark bowed his head in acquiescence, but Abby's face flared up, angry eyes boring holes into him. “You're such an ass sometimes, Ben,”
