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The Cave is small and windowless. I suppose you could call it an office, but if I were selling the place, I would hasten to add that it also functions perfectly well as a walk-in closet or possibly – in the event of a citizen arrest – a snug little prison cell.

You rarely see Becca outside the Cave these days, and with good reason. Any sensible Californian wouldn’t go anywhere near Minnesota in December, and I’m sure those that live here are visiting relatives until at least June. This particular Californian is sticking it out, but she _has_ discovered that if you shut yourself in the Cave with the furnace vent open and the thermostat cranked, it’s almost like being in a _Mexican_ prison cell.