CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Epilogue
I watched Renée walk out of the room, her head bowed. I knew she was worried, though that was not what I intended. It was just that I had seen things—not everything, of course. No human can see everything. But I had seen enough to know my place was here. I still had work to do.
What you still need to know is this: When Death comes for you, She does not steal into your home like a thief in the night, bumping against the detritus of your ordinary life.
No.
Death comes like a lady.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marjorie Florestal is a Haitian-American lawyer who grew up in New York and now calls California home. She writes novels that meld historical facts with the pulse-pounding excitement of a good thriller. Find more information about her at https://marjorieflorestalblog.wordpress.com.
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