She hurried into the house and up to her room. How he had stared at her-no; not at her, at the moonstone. The day had beencold, and the night would probably be colder. Irissat in the smallest of the drawing rooms, sipping at a glass of wine, and mentally rehearsed what lay ahead of them.
Was she being an interfering mother in racking herbrains for a way to bring Jonnie and Corinne home on a permanentbasis?Corinne was exhausted from the super-long hours spent in the hospital. Bernie's tone was longing. Then he slammed a fist on to thetable. She was radiant; Seth seemed oddly serious.
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