LIANA'S POV
The knock was gentler than I had expected, but it thumped in my chest. I opened the door gradually, having no notion of what I would find on the other side, and there he stood. Stanley. His hands jammed into his coat pockets, his eyes shadowed by something deeper than mere night.
"Hey," he whispered.
"Come in," I whispered back, stepping aside.
He came in, not as a friend caller, but as a man coming into a confession booth, prepared to abandon a sin. I shut the door behind us, the snap of the lock final.
"Want wine?"
"No. It won't take long."
I blinked. "Okay. So what's going on here, Stanley? You said you couldn't tell me that on the phone and you sounded tense."
He nodded slowly and assessed my living room, a vacant stare slipping over the unfilled wine glass and silk
