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Page 254
They ate breakfast together the next morning, and Mike invited her to join him at his office. As before, Abby spent the day working on the computer, learning all she could about this time she would soon be leaving, about the time to which she would soon return, and everything in between. She would have to be careful to keep her counsel once back in the past; knowing the future then would only heighten her reputation as a witch.
Mike and she returned home together after a long day, and Abby found their evening similar to the one before, as, to her delight, was their night.
In fact, the next days and nights formed a pattern, one filled with peaceful days of sharing, marvelous nights of passion.
They grew ever closer. The distant, cool Mike Danziger seemed to have disappeared, replaced by a man who joked and laughed and made love with abandon.
But as their closeness increased, so did Abby's anxiety. The prickling at her spine had become a near constant stabbing of fear. She could hardly eat or drink, for her throat was constricted and her stomach seemed heavy and bloated with her unspecified terror. Still, she tried to keep it from Mike. Most of the time she was successful.
One morning, though, as she picked at her breakfast, he said, "Spill it, Abby. You've been keeping something back. I'm the one whom you claim felt your sadness from more than a century away, remember."

 
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