king about the "es

d, surrounded by wilting gardenias,

suasive, "a sound so pure, so untouched, woven into

his approval, hung

n, a way to finally silence the whi

hing our daughter chase butterflies near the fountain. "So

s nearby, pruning roses, the

Julian?" Izzy asked, a str

k to Izzy. "Some believe the essence, the very core of such a voice, can

n' t need to. The implicat

ian, her expression a disturbing

, Julian? To ma

ndary," he corrected,

rd, dropping th

ned, surprise

f you need an essence, take mine. My voice, my vitality,

, a harsh, b

? It' s too coarse, too... earthy. Julian n

. "You wouldn' t understand

edatory glint in his eyes. He kn

ith a wave of her hand. "It will be a small thin

hing. My

e, Julian' s mother,

d to practice a dark, manipulat

w more frequent, her eye

lidified into a ce