Morning crept softly over Zurich, quiet and unhurried. The lake looked almost motionless, that early sunlight throwing a faint, golden shimmer across its surface. A few small boats rocked here and there by the edge, while far-off church bells rolled through the city, kind of like a gentle reminder that a new day had come. Lynda got to the café about fifteen minutes ahead of time. She picked a little table outside, facing the water. The seat across from her sat empty, though she found herself ...