The street was quiet enough that the open door was the loudest thing on it.Kaela stopped six feet short. Third door past the crooked lamp post — she'd counted from the corner twice to be sure — and it stood open a hand's width, no light behind it.She hadn't waited for Davan. She'd sent word and come anyway, because six streets was nothing and a closing door was everything, and she was already aware, standing here alone, that this was a decision she'd have to answer for later. Not now.She pushed the door wider with two fingers.The workroom smelled of hot metal and scorched starch. A pressing iron sat upright on its heel, still ticking as it cooled. Bolts of cloth stood in their racks, undisturbed, but the cutting table had been swept clear in a hurry — chalk dust smeared sideways, not brushed, and a stool knocked flat that no one had bothered to right.Movement, at the rear window. A shape going through it, not fast, careful, like someone who'd done it before.“Wait!"The figure dr
อ่านเพิ่มเติม
เข้าสู่ระบบ
