Chapter eight
The door swung open, and Mrs Mc Millian broke into the house, soaking wet. In the few moments that passed before she closed the door, I saw a black sky and the driveway shining with rain.
I froze on the marble staircase, my hand on the handrail.
The woman raised her head and saw me. “Miss Bruno! Look at this weather! Rain every day... The worst summer of all times...”
I felt my stomach twist. “Goodbye to my day off.” I moaned.
The woman took her wet sweater off. “I doubt that it will stop soon,” she admitted. “The air is electric, and it's not a classic summer storm. Nothing prevents you from enjoying your afternoon off, though. Why not relax with a good book? I was about to prepare some hot tea. Do you want one, too?”
My expression was determined. “No way, I'll get the
