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