Lucille
With my earlier-than-normal arrival time and uncertain if Roman was alone, I knocked on the outer door to his suite of apartments. Wearing only a nightgown and dressing gown, I basked in the warmth coming from the fire in our connecting parlor. Scanning the room, I noticed the heavy drapes covering the windows and blocking out the night skies. The only change since our short trip north to Annabella and Forthwith was a fresh bouquet of flowers on the round table near the main entry. Everything else, every piece of furniture, every item on each surface, and every book in the built-in bookcases was exactly as it had been.
Impatiently, I knocked again.
The second knock alone proved what I was coming to realize. I sensed it in every cell of my body—my surroundings were the same, bu
