The Golden Downtown
The roast was dry, and the silence in the dining room was thick enough to chew. Mr. Sterling held the sketchbook in one hand, his thumb pressing against the page with a casual cruelty that made the paper crinkle. He did not look at Leo. He looked at the chandelier, then at the guests, and finally down at the twelve-year-old standing by the sideboard, his fingers still stained with charcoal....
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen