Robert pulled up the crushed stone driveway, parking the vintage mustang in the circular drive before the main doors of the manor. The cliff house rose before him, grey against the pearl and blue sky. Tiny pockets of crystals embedded in the stone winked in the afternoon light, lending a magical quality to the home.
Home.
The word ran through Robert’s mind and brought a sneer to his lips. Walls, windows, furniture, but it was not a home. Homes were filled with love, with acceptance. His memories were filled with harsh words, rough touches. This house had never been a home.
Shoving the thought from his mind, he scowled and exited the vehicle. He had made excellent time, and for that he applauded himself. He had left the old woman in the care of hired men, under orders to stay away from h
