“Just a little bit?” Eddie edged towards the chair that sat to the right of Kaeva’s. “A couple of pages. One, even.”
Kaeva opened the book, pulled out a strip of wood that had been whittled into a wriggling, flat snake, and set the marker aside.
“A paragraph?” When there was no answer, Eddie tried a different route. “You have a beautiful voice. It’s quite soothing. I’ll probably be asleep in no time.”
“You’ll be sleeping out there,” Kaeva said, motioning over his shoulder at the back porch. “Not on my chairs.”