IRENE

The stairway was more of something made from flicker of my memory, there at the staircase looking down at the men, to every other thing —From a glass lamp on a side table that cast the area in dim light to the one that shone in their eyes, one in delight and the other shock.

The room was bright enough to see the flicker of impatience behind James' eyes.

I blinked and rolled my eyes, mostly from the look I was getting from James.

If he had thought I would stay there and stand by while he acted out of proportion he was wrong.

It wasn't a very hard...