3
Half a dozen people took up every inch of space in a living room with gray carpets and a black couch along the wall. Through the sliding glass door that led to the balcony, Anna saw three women in colourful dresses talking to Daython.
He was the only person that she knew at this party – which probably meant that she was supposed to mingle – and he had spent all of five minutes with her. As a result, she'd said maybe a dozen words since walking in the front door.
Daython wore gray slacks and a black shirt, his short dark hair cut to a point where it was almost stubble. He held a glass of brandy in one hand and gesticulated as he told some story.
Anna leaned against the balcony railing with a drink in hand, dressed in beige pants and a navy-blue t-shirt with flowers embroidered on the
