"Hey." He sat exactly where Rainbow had left him at noon: at the edge of the foyer, on a cushion, next to his pencils, and hunching over his pad of paper. Tank napped nearby, and it looked like Gabe had even given him his own little cushion. The pad had been bestowed a great deal more scribbles since last she saw it, and its owner was surrounded by a little squadron of crumpled-up balls of paper and a fleet of pencil shavings. Can't wait to see what he drew... right after I hit the shower.