She pointed and tried to draw Richie into the shadows. "Shh! They'll hear you!" she whispered, but it sounded embarrassingly loud in the quiet of the dark rotunda."No, they won't," Richie said. "And that one in the front is the chick I saw in my head."Cassie stared at Richie for a moment, then shifted her gaze to the approaching figures.A tall, lean woman with flowing black hair was picking her way carefully through the detritus that littered the unfinished floor of the library. She carried a flashlight. Or rather, they assumed it was a flashlight. While it had the familiar electric lamp and reflector, it was shaped and carried much like a lantern.She was dressed in clothing similar to what Richie had seen in his thoughts. She had a bag hanging by a thin rope tied around her waist. It gave a faint, metallic rattle as she walked.She turned her head and looked at her companion, who was only just barely discernible in the light. "Hurry up, please, I want to get this over with," she said. # The day was grey and promised rain, but didn’t deliver. It was as if Eleanora Hyde had ordered it herself. I delivered a tasteful but detached eulogy and my family sat bored in the front for the photographers. My grandfather watched me closely with his beady hawk eyes and I did my best to look beautiful and sad. Afterwards we stood in a receiving line, me next to Peter Hyde, the tallest ones with light hair. I’d always wondered where my height came from. My brother’s biological father was tall, but both my parents were short just like all my known grandparents. That’s what I’d thought until the Hydes had come forward after tracking my mother down to her grave. They’d come into my life, both tall, powerful, cultured, and rich. My grandmother was stately, my grandfather imposing. Together they’d been terrifying. Even now as an old man of almost eighty years Peter was healthy and robust and scary. He wanted the name to live on, and even as we grieved he was quizzing me about settling.
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