He tried not to let her brother's presence rankle him, but it was hard not to. Her idea was that they were all going to run off to Maine together like some happy damn family? Arlen couldn't see it. He also couldn't see leaving her, though. Ever. When he awoke it was to the sound of loud, angry voices. He got out of bed and pulled on some clothes and went downstairs, feeling a vague, hungover sort of angry, as he often did in the mornings after sleepless nights. By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, another voice had joined Rebecca and Owen's chorus, though, and this one pushed away the mental fog. It was Solomon Wade. "I told you to leave him alone," Rebecca was saying. "I mean it, too. You stay away from this place!" "I'm trying to help the lad get back on his feet," Wade said in that drawl of his, a voice carefully designed to show no reaction, to create a constant sense of control. "I shouldn't think you'd object to that." "You stay away from him." "Rebecca, quit hollering," Owen said as Arlen stepped into the room.
