The Mirror in the Penthouse
The dog died sleeping. That was the worst part. Sebastian Croft heard the soft thud from the bedroom—Charlotte's bedroom, the one he kept exactly as she had left it, the one he had not allowed himself to change in four years—and he ran. He ran in his silk pajamas, barefoot, the Manhattan skyline bleeding amber light through the floor-to-ceiling windows, and he found Julian Vester sitting in the...
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