Just like this house. Just like these night tables, just like the persian carpet, aged but still sound. The house had been built for her father, my gr...at-grandfather, a well-to-do merchant. Of Brownstone construction, this doublewide Manhattan townhouse had been in my possession since she died, over 45 years ago. And I loved it.The room was still, not a single sound to be heard. She was still. Too still.Clutching my cane by its solid gold handle, the round sapphire pressing into my hand, I. Luke took off his boxing gloves and wrist wraps, looking irritated at Kaylee. He turned down the music and took a quick swig from his water bottle. ‘Normally I’d say your timing was good since I was getting ready to take a short break, but I have a feeling this will be anything but short,’ Luke said curtly. ‘By the way, don’t ever sneak up on me like that again. I could have hurt you. How did you get in?’ Kaylee winced. ‘I… talked the apartment manager into letting me in. I kind of lied, told. More

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