Chapter 44: The Empty Pantry
The last glowing ember in the center of the drawing room gave off a sharp, dying hiss before turning entirely black, buried under a dusting of gray soot and windblown powder. Across the fractured slabs of Carrara marble, nothing remained of the eighty thousand dollar antique dining table except jagged mounds of charcoal and cold ashes that scattered whenever the freezing draft shifted along the floor.
The open bay window continued to let in the negative fifty degree gale, which howled through the torn velvet drapes and settled into the furniture like lead. Harlan lay slumped against the baseboard near the entrance, his broad chest rising and falling in shallow, shuddering gasps, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets to protect his blackened fingers. On
