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Chapter 93 - Ninety Three
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... steady rain, the kind that turned the world into a painting of slate, charcoal and damp green. Raindrops raced each other down the cold glass pane, distorting the view of the garden below, turning the rosebushes into shapeless, shivering blobs.
Ines stood at the window. Her forehead almost resting lightly against the cool glass, stealing a bit of its chill to soothe the constant, low-level fever of her anxiety. Her hands were clasped tightly in front of her waist, her fingers interlaced ...
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