The Distant Promise
The rain against the window of the estate office was not a sound so much as a physical weight, a persistent, gray drumbeat that seemed to synchronize with the thudding of Arthur’s heart. He sat at the heavy oak desk, the one that had belonged to his father and before that to his grandfather, and stared at the blueprints spread across the surface. They were not merely architectural drawings;...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews