‘Seems quiet enough,’ observed the junior officer, his gaze raking the shuttered windows of the building’s grey stone frontage. Diane Vorsack tried to disguise the fact that she was livid, her daughter’s buffoonery having driven off the prestigious dinner guests before the after-dinner drinks could be served. A male voice, vibrant with terror, yelled out hoarsely. She would not sleep for fear of losing a moment of that sense of his proximity. Anna suddenly leaned forward and looked around her.
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