Most of the books were first or second editions, coated in dust with gold speckled spines and worn leather covers. He read an old edition of Moby-Dick for most of the afternoon before he heard a key in the door. Suzan walked in carrying a brown paper bag. She glanced at him on her way to the kitchen. “Hey,” she said, “got some Chinese. Hope that’s okay.” “That sounds great.” She placed the bag down on a counter. “I got egg drop soup and sweet and sour pork for you.” He sat at the dining table. He could see words carved into the tabletop, names. The chicken scratch a child might carve waiting for breakfast. “You have kids?” “Oh, no. That table’s been here sixty years, at least. Been through a lot of kids, but not mine.” She laid the food out on the table and washed her hands. After sitting down, she folded her arms as he put his spoon in the soup.
What do You think about The Murder Of Janessa Hennley?
