Chapter 5 - The Glass Room
Marcus stiffens.
"What lady, Sophie?"
"The one who lives behind the mirror," Sophie says, her voice flat, matter-of-fact.
"She doesn't have a dog bowl. She has a tin cup."
Eleanor’s posture changes instantly.
The easy grace vanishes from her shoulders, leaving her shoulders rigid, square, and tense.
"Sophie," Eleanor says, her voice turning sharp as shattered glass. "Be quiet."
"She told me a story through the pipe," Sophie continues, her small fingers tapping a rhythm against Marcus’s shoulder blade.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"She said the man with the gray shirt isn't supposed to be here today."
Marcus looks at Eleanor.
Really looks at her.
He looks at the three identical gray dress shirts hanging in the mudroom.
He looks at the small pill bottle sitting beside the sink, filled with round blue tablets he takes every night before bed.
The tablets Eleanor hands him with a glass of water.
A dull, heavy ache begins to throb behind his left eye.
"Who is in the study, Eleanor?" he asks, his voice barely audible over the hum of the kitchen.
May you like
Eleanor doesn't answer.
She reaches behind her back, her fingers wrapping around the handle of the silver butcher block sitting on the island.
