"She’s sleeping," Martha replied, stepping aside to let him enter. "And besides, she sent me back. She said if she came home to a house full of glass and bad memories, she’d never get her blood pressure down. She told me to tell you: 'Clean the loom first. The thread can't be dusty.'"
Julian managed a tired laugh. Even sedated and recovering from a concussion, Siena was still the weaver, prioritizing the integrity of the work.
While Martha set to work in the kitchen, clearing the remnants of the struggle—the spilled milk, the overturned chairs—Julian moved to the small library he had converted into a home office. On the mahogany desk lay a thick, vellum envelope embossed with the seal of Vance & Associates.
Richard Vance had not just been a man of his word; he had been a man of surg
