The Interpreter. RaeAnne Thayne
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She had to think about it. Though her stomach felt hollow, she wasn’t sure she would be able to keep anything down with her head still throbbing. She had to try, though.
Common sense told her her body needed food to heal and she had a feeling her mind wouldn’t heal until her body did.
“I am a little hungry,” she admitted. “And I must say, your roast beef smells delicious.”
“What you need is some food in your stomach and then a hot bath with a good book. I’ve got just the thing for you. Come on now, Auntie Pam will take care of you.”
The woman looped her arm through Jane’s and headed across the room. Left with little choice in the matter—and feeling rather as if she was caught in the whirl of a typhoon—Jane followed her with one last, bewildered look toward Mason.
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