Chapter 7
PeaceableThe dark stone of the Daval house vanished into the night. The only source of illumination came from the round windows. Against the cold night, the windows seemed like eyes, watching her critically and finding fault.
This was her home and Peaceable had never felt such dread as she did coming up the walk.
Peaceable cradled the bakery box in her arms, mindful of her steps on the walk. It wouldn’t do to slip and drop the flaky pastries filled with nuts and honey. She went out of her way to go to her mother’s favorite bakery for the treats.
“Swanky place.” Joseph stomped his feet to dislodge snow from his shoes.
“It really is not,” she said. Her parents cared more for the appearance of a fine house—the manicured lawn, the lavish gardens—but the internal workings of the
