I moved into a cross legged position on the bed, adjusting the pillow behind me to keep the headboard from rubbing against my back. I pointed, and told Charlottte, “Sit.”
Good job making her less spooked.
Although that might not be your goal. The spook in her might be your best bet to keeping your secret, besides gratitude.
She obeyed, but she sat on the edge with her legs dangling, her body twisted to face me, as if she wanted to be able to run at a moment’s notice.
I don’t think John Cleese would let her.
I feel like it says something that I thought about that before the six Coildiers standing outside the door.
After some consideration, I frowned and told her, “I don’t know what to do with you.”
Honesty. Good starting point.
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