"You've put the carton of milk on the porch?" Jacob stared intently at Quil, his hand straying to play with the frayed edges of the cushion.
"Every night before I go to bed, just like you asked me, man." Quil smiled warmly, his gaze straying down to the legs of the sofa where a small, pale hand peeked from the shadows.
"Good. Hope Embry has done the same." Jake stretched his long legs, unmindful of the thin fingers that greedily reached towards him.