I looked out over the water, my black velvet shortcoat keeping me warm from the slight chill of the wind. It didn't fit me properly anymore, bagging at the waist. Apparently I'd shed some weight on this little adventure. I found myself tugging at the fabric, missing the firm grip of it, swatting at stray strands of hair crossing my lips in the breeze.

We'd ended up at the Brindle house that night, wrapped up in darkness and absolute quiet. No one seemed in the mood to speak, ...