Chapter Thirty Six The Storm Before The Calm
The morning did not begin with the soft sound of the tide or the smell of fresh coffee. It began with a silence so heavy it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. I opened my eyes to find Alexander standing by the floor to ceiling glass window. He was not looking at the ocean. He was holding a small crumpled scrap of charcoal stained paper in his hand. The same paper I had dropped into the orange crate.
He did not turn around when he heard me stir. He just stood there like a statue carved from obsidian. The sun was rising behind him which cast his long shadow across the silk sheets and over my legs. I felt a cold dread wash over me that made the tropical heat vanish. My heart began to drum a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
He told
