Alexander came in behind me and calmly closed the sliding door that separated the kitchen from the living room. He held out his hand, asking for the sheet, and I gave it to him with a trembling arm. He studied the photographs in the article and read some of what was written in English, and for several minutes neither of us said anything.
Until Alexander grimaced and crushed the paper in one of his large fists.
“…And what do you plan to do with this?” he asked curtly. “I understand that you’re afraid of what I am and want to protect yourself, but I’ve already assured you that neither my son nor I will harm you, Johanna.”
Heavens—he was so tall and seemed so large compared to me that…
“Well, look… I’ve had this feeling all afternoon that I knew you,” I began, more firmly. “You’re the eld
