search is
is empty
ign
ounts, a storm br
he se
e
L
small for his age, with my
, a miniature ghost of the
n st
thing unreadable
e famili
demands, his voice
, then back to the child wh
plain as day, but
is arrogance
Martha says, her voi
s, a harsh,
She was here alone. Clearly,
a wave of his hand,
tard,
physical blow. The boy fl
want to shield him,
nly mist,
is cold gaze
says, his voice dangerously soft
asks, her hand instinctivel
ing on his lips. "If he' s her son, his blo
not as a child, b
ss convenient
n' t appear by tomorrow
heavy, a promis
wants to
understood deepens, be