36. ...18,19,20!
Boromir's bed was a mess. The sheets were thrown back and wrinkled; the coverlet was shoved to the foot of the bed in a pile. I looked across the hallway into Faramir's room – his bed looked perfectly made.
Wondering if the housemaid had gotten distracted, I went to straighten the bedclothes when I heard a giggle, then Faramir's head popped out.
"What are you doing under there?" I asked.
"Ssssh!" he said. "I'm hiding from Boromir!"
Just then, Boromir shouted, "Ready or not, here I come!"
"Don't tell!" Faramir ordered, scrambling back under the blankets.
Chuckling, I promised I wouldn't.
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