Domenico
“Habit. That, and it makes people unsure if I’m here or not.”
Everything on the interior was as minimalistic as the exterior. The kitchen was all clean lines and shiny surfaces. The family room held a couch, chairs, lamp, and table, with one painting on each wall, and that was it. There was nothing homey about it, but at the same time it seemed very much him.
I turned to say something, but he was missing. “Domenico?”
A blue glow came from a doorway on the opposite side of the house. Inside was an entire bank of screens. Cameras, dozens of them, captured every angle on the outside of the house, and another dozen captured the inside.
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