Chapter 107VIVIANMy mother called me at four in the morning, and I could hear in the first syllable of my name that she was pleased about something, which meant, immediately, that something terrible had happened."Vivian," she said, and there was a warmth in it that had no business existing at that hour, a warmth I recognized from childhood, from the specific register she used when I had won something, a competition, an audition, a small victory she could carry into a room and repeat to her friends."What is it," I said, sitting up in bed, already braced."Julian Hale was in an accident tonight," she said. "A car. Hit him in the street. He's in hospital." A pause, and I could hear her arranging her voice into something appropriately solemn, though the solemnity did not reach all the way through. "The violinist and the boy were there too. Unharmed, apparently.""Mother," I said. "Why do you sound happy about this.""I am not happy," she said, to
Última actualización : 2026-09-22 Leer más