“Golden light from ecru-shaded bronze wall sconces offered soft pools of illumination around the periphery of the room. The twin chandeliers remained dark. Near the oak writing table in the center of the room, Laverne Phillips lay propped against the end of the red velvet chaise longue, one hand draped on the carved back, the other dangling limply over the side. Her face was indistinct in the gloom. No details of her all-black clothing could be distinguished. I floated above the long oak table, ...studying the family and guests seated in the Louis XV chairs. Diane plucked nervously at silver charms on a bracelet and darted worried glances around the table, perhaps fearful that those she’d persuaded to attend would leave, perhaps fearful that James would not appear. Jimmy’s shoulders hunched. He looked young and uncomfortable, as if he held anger barely in check. His occasional glances toward Laverne were filled with loathing. Evelyn’s strong face was untroubled, her hands quietly folded on the table.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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