Part One: Diana
Monday, August 9, 2004
It was the early hours of Monday morning and Diana was lying awake. The previous day she had made up with Mart and part of her was still wondering if it had been the right thing to do. It seemed as if none of their previous problems had been resolved and now there were his mysterious ‘responsibilities’ to consider - or were they one and the same thing?
What could he possibly have to tell me? she wondered. And why is he so worried about telling me here? Who is he afraid will overhear us?
Speculation was not Diana’s strong point. She sensed how Mart felt about the secret: tense and a little embarrassed. What it could actually be was beyond her imagination.
We’ve just got to have that talk, she decided. Sometimes, it’s easier to talk in the dark. I wonder if he’ll tell me now…
Quietly, she rose and made her way to the room which Mart and Dan were sharing. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully and she very nearly turned around and went back to bed. As she stood wondering whether to wake him, his eyes opened.
“Let’s talk,” she whispered, as softly as she could. She led the way to the side door and they exited together, making sure that the door did not lock behind them. “Mart,” she said softly. “I can’t wait. Can we have that talk now? I need to know whether I’m just wasting my time.”
“I don’t want anyone to hear,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll tell you some other time, when the others aren’t around.”
Di held up her car keys and jingled them gently. “I have thought of that,” she said, nodding towards her car. “Get in. We’ll talk and then we’ll both feel better.” Although it was dark, she could still see the worried expression on his face. “Please?” He nodded, and they settled in the back seat.
“I don’t want Trixie to know,” he said, shrinking into a dark corner. “I mean, she’ll find out sometime, but she shouldn’t hear it from me - or you.”
Diana was confused. What could Mart be about to tell her? And why did he not want Trixie to know?
“Are you in some sort of trouble?” she asked.
“Not exactly. It’s something my grandfather did.” He sighed, and explained. “Just before Trixie was born, Grandpa Belden called his sons together for a meeting. He did that a lot, I think.
“That particular time, he told them he had changed his will about three years before and that it was time for them to know about it. He was terminally ill and the doctors gave him a few weeks, at most.”
“What happened?” Di asked, in a whisper.
“Grandpa Belden told his sons what the conditions were on the will and they told him he’d gone mad, pretty much. They spent a long time trying to get him to change his mind, but he wouldn’t. From what Dad tells me, I think he was a pretty stubborn man. Old fashioned, too.”
“So, what was in the will?”
“Well, you know that my dad has two brothers, Uncle Andrew and Uncle Harold. Uncle Harold’s the oldest, then Dad, then Uncle Andrew. I don’t know all the details, but all three of them had done things that Grandpa Belden strongly disapproved of, so he set up some sort of trust. He left some money to both of my uncles, and he left Dad Crabapple Farm, but no money.
“The rest of the estate is still in the trust.” He stopped for a moment, looking away. “It’s set up so that whoever meets the requirements first gets it. At the moment, I’m the only one in the running.”
“What?” asked Di, in a shocked whisper. “But, your father and uncles… your cousins… and what about Brian?”
“Dad, my uncles, Brian and Knut were never in the running. There were conditions written - I think - particularly to exclude them. In fact, the way Dad tells it, Cap and I were the only ones in this generation who could actually inherit. He dropped out of college last year, so now it’s down to just me.”
“What do you have to do?”
“It’s mostly what I’ve got to NOT do,” he said, his voice taking on a slightly different note. Diana wondered if this was the part he was embarrassed about. “Most of the requirements are to do with illegitimate children. Not having any, that is. Mostly, I just have to make it through three more years, graduate from college and not have any children conceived out of wedlock and I’ll get the money. I’ll admit it’s a bit of a strain, though.”
“Is it so important?” she asked, gently.
Mart sighed. “I think Dad would be happy for it all to be over. His father died just before Trixie was born, so this has been hanging over him for a long time.” He paused. “It’s a lot of money, too. Enough, I think, to make a real contribution to Jim’s school.”
She took his hand and squeezed. “Jim doesn’t expect you to do that, but I’m glad that you want to. And I think I understand now. You don’t want to jeopardise this - and, I guess, that’s why you chose to study here, too?”
“Exactly. Dad had a serious talk to me about this, just before I decided not to go to Cornell and I thought it would be better if I lived in the same place as Brian - you know, safety in numbers and all that.” He groaned. “And now, it’s almost worse than if we’d done it that way. I don’t know how I’m going to get through three years of living in the same house as you without…”
“There’s such thing as birth control,” she replied, with a giggle.
“In case you haven’t noticed, there’s a history of unplanned pregnancy in my family,” he pointed out, grimly. “I don’t think I can take that risk.”
“Do you think you can get a copy of the will?” Di asked. “I could get a lawyer to look at it.”
“How would that help?” Mart asked, sounding discouraged.
“The whole thing sounds pretty strange,” she explained. “There could be all sorts of loopholes for us to work with.”
“I’ll try,” he replied. “In the meantime, help me out a bit, please. I don’t know how much self control I have left.”
“I’ll bear that in mind,” she told him, with a grin.
A little more than a week later, back in Sleepyside, Diana received the copy of the will and made an appointment to see a lawyer. The one that her father recommended was a very busy man, so she had a few weeks’ wait until she could see him. By the time the given day arrived, she had already moved to Winter Rock.
“And what can I do for you?” asked the lawyer, an old friend of her father’s, when Di was seated in front of him.
“I’ve brought a will for you to look at,” she said, placing it on the table. “The family doesn’t want to challenge, but my boyfriend, who is a potential beneficiary, and I want to see if there is some way around this part here.” She pointed to the relevant section. “He meets these first few requirements and he should meet the college requirement in three more years…”
Diana thought that she could see amusement on the older man’s face. She continued, “There’s no one else who will qualify in the current generation. So, we were wondering whether there was anything that we can do to protect his claim.”
“I see,” he said, frowning at the document. “Well, leave it with me. I can see one obvious course of action, but I’ll have to think about whether there are any others. I’ll send you a response in writing when I’ve considered it.”
“Thank you, very much,” she said, rising. “I look forward to receiving that.”
Thursday, September 23, 2004
The day that the awaited letter arrived, Di arrived home to find Honey and Trixie waiting for her. She had spent an exhausting afternoon in her least favourite class and wanted nothing more than to spend an hour soaking in a bubble bath. Her whole way home, she had spent contemplating which scent she could choose.
“Here she is,” Honey said as soon as Di opened the door, shattering her dream of fragrant bubbles and warm water. “We have serious business to discuss with you. Here’s your mail. Put it in your room and come with us.”
A quick glance sent Di’s heart beating faster. She looked longingly at the letter in her hand, which she was certain had come from her lawyer, but obediently followed along. The door to Honey’s room closed behind the three and she looked from one face to the other, for a clue as to what was happening.
“Why are we here?” she asked almost immediately, trying hard to curb her impatience.
“We want your opinion,” said Trixie. “Do you think that the guys have been running the household too much? I mean, making all the decisions of what we do and stuff. Not giving us enough time to ourselves.”
“Well…” Di began, with a frown. “I guess…”
“Trixie and I have been talking, and we think that it’s time that we girls spent some time together. I mean, I’ve hardly seen you since we moved here. We’ll close the doors to our half of the house right after dinner one night and have a sleep over in the living room. How does that sound?”
Suddenly, Di smiled. “Sounds like fun. When should we do it?”
“Tonight?” asked Trixie. She looked suspiciously at Di’s expression. “Oh, go and open your letter,” she said. “Tomorrow’s a better night for the sleep over, anyway.”
“Thanks, Trix. Tomorrow it is.” At that, she slipped out of Honey’s room and headed straight for her own.
The door closed behind her and she picked up the letter, feeling nervous. For a minute, she turned it over and over in her hands, not wanting to be too disappointed if it turned out to be something else. Only one way to find out, she told herself, as she slit it open. This is it! Quickly, she skimmed through the formal language, looking for the part which set out her options. Her eyes widened as she read, then a thoughtful smile settled on her face. Maybe that’s what we should do.
The following evening, Trixie, Honey and Diana made sure that dinner was served right on time. All three were disproportionately excited about their sleep over, or so it seemed to the other occupants of the house. They giggled incessantly right through the meal before retreating to their half of the house and closing the doors.
“There,” said Honey, grinning from ear to ear. “Now we can really get started.”
“It seems like forever since we did this,” Di added, tossing a pile of pillows onto the floor. “Did someone remember the chocolate?”
Trixie ducked back into her room to retrieve it as the others gathered items from their own rooms. “Can’t have a girls’ night without chocolate,” she said, cheerfully. “But, let’s leave out the beauty routine thing, okay?”
“No way!” Di cried. “I’ve got a hair appointment in a few days. I need you two to help me decide what I want. Besides, I’ve had an idea for your hair. Come over here and I’ll see if it will work.”
“Why me?” Trixie groaned, but submitted nonetheless. “I don’t think there’s any hope for it. I might as well cut it all off, again.”
Honey, her mouth full of chocolate, shook her head. “It’s much better now that it’s longer,” she said, finally. “And I think it suits you like that, kind of pulled back from your face but still kind of wild. Have some chocolate and don’t be so pessimistic. Anyway, Jim would be brokenhearted if you did. He told me so.”
“There,” said Di, smoothing a last strand. “What do you think?” She held out a mirror for Trixie to look in. “You could probably make it neater if you practiced, but you get the idea.”
“It looks great,” said Honey. “I’ll do yours next, Di. And Trixie can tell us what the big secret is that Brian and Mart keep alluding to. I’ve been meaning to ask her forever.”
“What secret?” asked Trixie, still admiring the effect in the mirror. “Di, you’re a miracle worker! I look almost normal.” She looked up suddenly. “But getting back to the important point - what secret?”
“If we knew that, we wouldn’t be asking you,” Honey replied. “All we know is that it’s got something to do with an inheritance, or something. Your dad’s father, I think. That’s right isn’t it, Di?”
Di shifted uncomfortably, unable to move because Honey had both hands in her hair. “Something like that,” she mumbled.
Trixie’s jaw dropped. “You know,” she accused. “Which of them told you? Was it Mart? If it was, I’m going to…”
“So, tell me!” Honey cried.
“That’s the problem,” Trixie replied. “I don’t know what the secret is. No one will tell me.”
“You don’t know?” Honey said, with a gasp. “There’s some sort of secret in your family and you don’t know it?”
“You don’t need to sound like that,” Trixie said, rather offended. “The way they always talk, it’s some kind of men’s thing. I kind of got the impression that it wasn’t anything to do with me. I do have some self control, you know.”
There was a short silence before Honey said, “So, Di, are you going to tell us?”
“Honey!” Di cried. “I can’t! I mean, I promised not to and he said especially not to tell Trixie and…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Well, I guess I can tell you a little.”
“That’s more like it,” Honey said, shaking Di’s hair loose and settling herself in a more favourable position. “What’s it all about?”
“Well,” Di said slowly, “Mart told me that there was still some property in trust from his grandfather’s estate-”
“But he died before I was born,” Trixie interrupted. “How can there still be property?”
“Because of the way he left it,” Di explained. “There are lots of conditions on the heir that have to be met before the trust is ended. They haven’t been met, so it’s still in trust. That’s the part that Mart is concerned with.”
“But why?” Trixie demanded. “Why should Mart need to worry about that? The way I heard it, he wasn’t even born yet when the will was written.”
“And why is Brian worried?” Honey added, looking anxious.
“That’s a whole other thing,” Di replied, darkly. “My lawyer said it was one of the strangest wills he’d ever seen - and he’s seen a lot.”
“What?” squeaked Honey. “Why was your lawyer looking at it?”
A shy smile spread across Di’s face. “I’ll tell you after we’ve had time to think about it,” she said. “And that’s all you’re getting from me, now.”
Part Two: Dan
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
The sun was still low in the sky as Dan approached the basketball court. He was in the habit of meeting an old friend for a game, one-on-one, once or twice a week. The weather at the moment forced them to make it early in the morning. He whistled off-key and pounded the ball as he waited.
“Hey, Dan,” called his friend, John, from the other end of the court.
“Hey, yourself,” came the reply. The game started with hardly another word and they played until Dan had soundly defeated his opponent. The pair collapsed on a nearby bench, each wiping sweat from their faces.
“I’ll beat you next time,” John puffed.
Dan only laughed.
“Or, do you have a secret weapon? You’ve been real happy lately. We’ve all noticed.” Dan’s face creased into a frown. “You don’t need to act all innocent. I saw you kissing that blonde - what’s her name? Trixie?”
“Not me,” Dan replied. “Jim Frayne. Tall. Red hair-”
“He had dark hair - just like yours, actually. No use denying it, Mangan.”
“It must’ve been someone else,” Dan said in a tone which brooked no argument. “Wasn’t me. Wasn’t her.” As far as he was concerned, John had obviously been mistaken. What other explanation was there?
A few days later at Wimpy’s, Dan heard another version of John’s accusation. He was sitting at the counter with a group of friends, including John, just before closing, when one of the others brought the topic up again.
“Hey, Dan,” said Stu. “I hear that friend of yours, Trixie, has been around a bit, lately.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, I saw her with Jim Frayne on Tuesday, then Larry - you know him? Big guy at work - says he saw her with some other guy on Wednesday, then I saw her with Frayne again on Friday.”
“And?” Dan’s tone was at its most forbidding.
“She’s pretty hot. Think you can get me a date?” Dan’s hand slammed down on the counter and his friend shrank back in surprise.
“He was wrong,” he said, reigning in his anger with supreme effort. “She’s with Frayne. That’s it.”
“Leave it alone, Stu,” said John, smirking. “Dan’s the one - and he wants to keep her all for himself.” An instant later, John was sprawling on the floor.
“All right, that’s enough,” said Mike, suddenly appearing behind the counter. “I think it’s time you were all on your way home.”
One of the others helped John to his feet. He rubbed at the spot where Dan’s fist had connected with his face, but took no further action. The group parted, leaving Dan outside Wimpy’s, angry and alone.
Damn it, he thought, watching his friends leave. Gotta learn a bit of control. It wasn’t for weeks that it even occurred to him to ask Stu what his colleague had really said.
Saturday, August 14, 2004
By chance, Dan met up with Stu late in the afternoon as they were both heading towards home. No one had dared bring up the topic of Trixie near Dan since the night at Wimpy’s, but by now he wanted to know what the rumour was about. He was not, however, prepared to listen to any more of John’s jokes. This seemed like a good opportunity to find out.
“You’re not going to hit me, are you?” Stu asked nervously, after hearing the request.
“Depends on whether you make any bad jokes,” Dan replied, in a dangerous voice. “Just stick to the facts, okay?”
“This is just what Larry told me, okay?” Dan nodded. “He lives in one of the houses next to the park. You know the one, where the high school kids go to make out.” Only a short walk from the school, the small park had a few large, shady trees and was overlooked by only two houses and a business or two. “He said it was late in the day, just on dusk. He heard loud voices and stuff. He looked out and saw your friend with a dark-haired guy.”
Dan thought carefully for a moment. “So, he was inside his house, across the road and it was almost dark. How did he know it was her?”
“The guy was calling her name. And, everyone in town knows who she is.”
There was a long pause while Dan tried to take it all in. Maybe it was her, he thought, as he muttered his thanks to Stu and wandered away. Poor Jim. I can’t just let her… He stopped short. I’ll talk to Mart, he decided. He’ll know what to do.
The conversation with Mart behind him, Dan was feeling restless. It was good to have handed the problem over to someone else, but there wasn’t the satisfaction of some resolution. He was fairly sure that Mart had done nothing about the accusation yet and that was a little disturbing.
With these thoughts running through his head, he wandered along through the streets of Winter Rock. In the distance, he noticed Trixie, her curls bouncing as she rushed along the street. But there was something wrong about her appearance. Her shirt, he decided with a start. When I saw her this morning, she was wearing blue. Now, it’s pink.
He set off after her, jogging to catch up until he reached the corner she had disappeared around. A quick peek told him that she was far ahead of him still and he walked quickly, trying to blend in to the crowd. As she disappeared around another corner, his pace increased once again.
Where is she going? he wondered, starting to feel apprehensive. This isn’t the nicest part of town. The buildings he passed were getting more and more dirty and run down but, ahead of him, Trixie kept going. Dan felt that he needed to keep his distance now. If he got any nearer, she would be sure to notice him. He ducked into the doorway of an empty shop as she began to turn towards the buildings on her right. He heard a door creak open and peeked out in time to see which door she had entered.
A few minutes later, when she had not returned, Dan went to investigate. Lanie’s Guest House, said a grimy sign above the door. To one side, a faded and much amended notice gave the prices for a room - by the hour, day, week or month. Feeling rather uncomfortable, Dan backed away and left, determining to put the issue right out of his mind.
Saturday, September 25, 2004
Ethical issues aside, life in the share house seemed pretty good to Dan. He had one of the larger bedrooms and it was right next to the front door. That meant that he could do any amount of private entertaining and no one would know.
This particular Saturday afternoon, the girl in question was called Shari. Outside the bedroom door, there were sounds of a friendly argument going on. Over the top, someone was singing Yellow Submarine at the top of her lungs.
“Your housemates are mad,” she said, running her hand across his chest. “How do you stand to live here?”
“It’s not so bad,” he replied, lazily. “Plenty of company when I want it; always plenty to eat; privacy when I want it. What more could I want?”
A ringing telephone added to the apparent chaos outside. A male voice yelled, “Be quiet, Trixie. I need to answer the phone!” Dan and Shari settled in for an afternoon nap.
An hour later, Dan awoke to a sharp rap on his door. He heard Honey’s voice hiss, “Dan, if you’re in there, whatever you do, don’t come out! Especially not half dressed or anything.”
“I’d better be getting home,” Shari said, sleepily. “I really didn’t mean to stay this long and your housemates are starting to freak me out.”
A stentorian voice sounded clearly, even through the door. “Pack your bag, Madeleine. You are coming with me. No arguments, now.” The voice held a note of authority; its owner was apparently used to being obeyed without question. Something in that voice made Dan feel sick to the stomach.
“No, Aunt Vera,” Honey could be heard to say clearly, but in a nervous voice. “There’s no reason why I can’t stay here.”
“On second thoughts,” Shari whispered, “I think I’ll stay here until the old battle-axe is gone. I can just tell by the sound of her that I really won’t like her.”
Dan laughed softly. “I guess that’s why I’m not supposed to come out.” He looked at the window speculatively. “Unless you want to go out that way?”
“It’s not far down, is it?” she asked. “I do have a lot of studying that I’m supposed to be doing.”
Dan had already started preparing for their exit. “I can lift you down, if you like.”
Minutes later, both Dan and Shari were standing in front of the house. They said their goodbyes and Shari departed.
Dan made his way around to the back of the house with a view to finding out what was going on. He carefully avoided the corner of the house where Honey’s bedroom was located and tapped on Brian’s bedroom window. It opened and Brian looked out.
“What’s going on?” Dan asked in a whisper.
Brian looked solemn. “Do you remember Ben Riker?” Dan nodded. “His mother - Honey’s father’s sister - was killed in a car accident a few hours ago.”
“That’s terrible. What’s happening here, though? I thought I heard someone telling Honey to pack her bags.”
“Honey’s great aunt,” Brian explained. “She apparently came to see whether Honey was coping with the news, took one look at this place and said it was unsuitable and that Honey had to leave.”
“But Honey doesn’t want to leave; I heard her say so.”
“Exactly.”
“So, what are we going to do about it?” Dan asked, a cheeky grin creeping across his face.
“Do?” Brian asked. “What could we do? The woman is absolutely set on the idea of leaving and I, for one, am not going to stand in her way.”
“Is that her car out front?”
“Yes.” Brian looked wary.
“We could park it in,” Dan suggested. “You park your car in front and I’ll park Jim’s behind.”
“It’s not going to keep her indefinitely,” Brian said, “but it could buy us some time.”
Minutes later, the plan had been executed and the two men had hidden themselves just in time. Aunt Vera strode out of the front door, with Honey trailing behind and Jim bringing up the rear with Honey’s suitcase.
“Move these cars, young man!” the older woman shouted at Jim.
He replied, politely, “Yes, Miss Carlton.”
As Jim turned to leave, Dan got his first good look at Honey’s great aunt. From her voice, he had imagined a large woman and he had been partly right. Vera Carlton was very tall for a woman, but very thin. Her face, at this moment, was creased into a formidable scowl.
“Get in the car, Madeleine,” she said, severely. “We shall be leaving in a few minutes.”
Five minutes passed, then ten. Dan was beginning to feel rather cramped in his hiding place beneath the front steps. Brian, sensibly, had chosen a place that he could retreat to the rear of the house at any time. Eventually, Jim re-emerged from the house.
“I’m sorry, Miss Carlton,” he said, politely. “I can’t seem to find the keys to either car.”
“Useless!” the old lady proclaimed. “Why Matthew adopted you, I’ll never know. I want to leave, immediately. Find those keys, or have the cars removed!”
Jim went back into the house, followed by Miss Carlton. Dan took the opportunity to stretch his legs, much to Honey’s surprise.
“Dan!” she called, softly. “Call my father for me, please! Tell him what’s happened.”
He nodded and ran towards the corner of the house. Behind him, he thought he could hear Miss Carlton approaching the front door, her loud voice booming out another set of instructions. With moments to spare, he rounded the corner.
He met Brian in the back yard and quickly told him what Honey had said. “Can I go in through your window?” he asked. “I don’t think we should risk using the door.”
Brian agreed and soon Dan was sneaking through the house towards the telephone. Passing near Jim’s room, he heard Miss Carlton make an acid remark. He moved away from the doorway and stood, uncertain, in the kitchen. The phone was on the opposite side of the living room. Could he make it there and hide before she came out of Jim’s room?
“I don’t have time for this. I demand that the vehicles be removed, immediately!” Miss Carlton bellowed, just as he was deciding to try. “I will not stand for this!” He ducked out of sight just in time.
“I wonder if Honey has a set of my keys,” Jim said, as if it had only just occurred to him. Miss Carlton, after making a rude reply, was redirected towards the other side of the house and Dan completed his journey.
He took the telephone from its table and reached for the handle of his bedroom door, cursing softly as he realised that he had not unlocked it before climbing out the window. He settled for squeezing into the space between the sofa and the wall, sinking into an uncomfortable crouch. He quickly dialled and then began a nervous wait for someone to pick up.
“Manor House, Chrissie speaking,” said an unfamiliar voice.
“May I please speak to Mr. Wheeler,” he said, wondering who this could possibly be. “It’s Dan Mangan speaking.”
“Mr. Wheeler is taking no calls,” said Chrissie, whoever she was.
“It’s important. I have a message for him from his daughter.”
“He’s taking no calls,” she repeated. “Please call another time.”
“Wait!” he replied, certain that he was about to be hung up on. “Is Miss Trask there?”
There was an exasperated sigh from the other end of the line. “I’ll get her for you,” she said, rather rudely. Dan heard the phone being unceremoniously dumped on a table and then there was a long delay.
“Manor House, Margery Trask speaking.”
“Miss Trask,” Dan said, relieved. “I’m so glad you’re there. Honey asked me to call her father but the girl who answered the phone wouldn’t put me through.”
“I’ll put you through right away,” Miss Trask said, briskly. “I’m very sorry, Dan.”
There was another, shorter, pause then Matthew Wheeler’s voice came on the line. “Dan? You have a message for me?”
“Yes, sir,” Dan replied. “Honey asked me to call you because her Aunt Vera is here and is trying to take her away.”
“She’s what?” Mr. Wheeler practically yelled. “Please go and get Honey. I’d like to speak to her.”
“I’ll try, sir.”
Dan gently put down the receiver on the phone table and started for the door. A thought occurred to him on the way. It would be better if one of the girls did this. I’ll get Trixie.
Moments later, he was tapping softly on Trixie’s door. “Trix,” he called. “Honey’s father is on the phone and wants to talk to her. Can you get her please?”
The door popped open an inch. “If you think I’m going to face that woman for you-” she began. “Oh, all right.”
Trixie ran out through the house and out the front door. “Honey,” she called, loudly enough for Dan to hear her. “Your father’s on the phone for you.”
As Dan headed out into the back yard he heard Honey’s aunt booming, “Tell him she is not available. Get back in that car, Madeleine.” He shuddered silently and quickened his steps towards a bench which stood out of sight of the house, hidden in the shrubbery.
Moments later, he stopped. Through the dense branches he could just make out a patch of blue. Was someone there already? He crept quietly around to the other side of the seat. A young woman was sitting there. As he watched, she ran a hand through unruly blonde curls.
That can’t be Trixie, Dan said to himself, knowing that she could not possibly have gotten there ahead of him. But, it sure looks like her. I bet she’s the one I saw going into the guest house. Springing out suddenly, he caught her by the arm and she turned towards him in shock. Not really like her, he amended to himself. What on earth is going on here?
“Wh- who are you? And what are you doing here?” she asked, her eyes wide with fright.
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” he replied.