“You’re going to love this play,” Marcus said. “Am I?” I asked. He led me out of my front door into the chill of the spring night. I had faced down John hours ago, refusing to allow Haydar to accompany us to the theatre. Only Henry’s gentle prodding, paired with his obvious concern for my welfare had coaxed me into…
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Saturday morning dawned crisp and bright. I had slept poorly, again, the various injuries I sustained in my struggle with McNaught making it impossible for me to find comfort in my bed. The thought of him lingering somewhere outside in the darkness only deepened my discomfort. How closely had he spied upon me two years ago? Had he perched like…
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