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He couldn’t escape the nagging feeling he was missing something when suddenly the realisation of who one of the women was hit him so hard he came to...a sudden stop on the path. “The ankle,” muttered Craig out loud then as he he had drawn a few annoyed ‘tuts’ from fellow joggers following his abrupt halt, he put his hand on a tree and rubbed his own ankle in fake pain. ‘Bloody hell’ he thought to himself as he massaged his ankle, ‘that older woman was Marge, I am sure of it, her ankle was. She'll be able to help. I shouldjust turn around and leave the room before I get into more trouble.But I don't. The thrill of exploring the contents of these femininecompartments is too much. What is in Mrs. Feyla's dresser drawers? Iwatched Morgen sift through them, so I have an idea. But I want toexplore them for myself.And I have a four day weekend stretching ahead of me, all alone in thismodest house in this old New Jersey college town. All by myself...My hand reaches for the handle and I. More

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