"Why are there three of them?" he wondered softly.
One of the figures fidgeted beneath their sheets. Boda hissed, 'Shhhhh,' as it followed around the corner, 'One listens. One hears.'
Damon sucked his fingers, regardless of his friend's disapproval. He began to edge around the doorframe and toward home again, but Boda would not let him go. Instead, his secret plaything urged him further into the room, so he crossed the floor with a trepid gait.
Near the foot of the bed, Boda urged him to his knees, just as one of the figures, the female, suddenly sat up stiffly in her bed. From a valley in her folded, wrinkled covers, he watched her face, comically smeared with mascara and lipstick, as it turned this way and that.
"What?" she snorted sleepily. "What did you say?"