Chapter 79: The Patriarch Watches
A thick crust of white frost coated the interior glass of the parlor bay window, obscuring the violent world outside behind a wall of frozen crystals. Harlan Sterling stood before the sill, his breath emerging in short, shallow puffs that dissipated into the stagnant chill of the grand drawing room. The temperature inside the mansion hovered near twenty degrees below zero, cold enough to turn the moisture on his upper lip to gravel, yet the former patriarch remained standing while his knees trembled beneath his trousers.
He held a tarnished silver letter opener in his right hand, his blackened fingers stiff and clumsy around the engraved handle.
He pressed the flat edge of the silver blade against the center pane, dragging it downward with a harsh, grat
