“I’m sorry, Mother. Father. Please, may I stay? I like our new guest, he reminds me of me.” He looked at Noah again, a quick upturn of his lips like a taunt. “I want apple pie. With ice cream. A la mode, it’s called. I like fancy things.”
“That sounds yummy,” Noah said, unsure why he was speaking to Stefan in childish tones. Given their previous meeting, Noah was getting the sense that the troubled man’s behavior was an act. Deliberate, intended to shock, to unnerve.
A quick, non-verbal exchange between his parents transpired, and they allowed Stefan to remain.
“What do you say we take dessert in the sun room? Open that champagne at last,” Ginette suggested. “It’s a lovely night, so let’s take advantage of the fine weather.”
“I heard that a storm is brewing down south, it could reach u
