Chapter 231. Christmas Eve-The Threat Resurfaces.
CAMERON
The house was loud on Christmas Eve. My mother had taken over the kitchen at seven in the morning and had not relinquished it. The smells of food had been building in layers since eight. She displayed excellent cooking skills of a woman who cooked the way she breathed. She did so without needing to think about processes. And she deployed the full repertoire for an audience she had been waiting years to feed. Lake had identified four separate smells by ten o'clock and announced each one with the authority of someone filing a formal report. Drew had written them in his notebook.
My father was in the sitting room with the door slightly open, the specific angle that meant he was reading and also available, the door position he had ma
