Glass Read Online Free PDF

you,” he mumbled, then cleared his throat. “Yes and no. I believe the devil exists, evil exists. I believe what we’ve sown through our words and actions will grow when planted. But I believe wherever we walk, the death of God’s Son provided us the power to have free, happy lives without curses if we’ll believe in Him.”
    She b owed her head, chewing slowly, and he let her be. A gust of wind rattled the window panes. Both he and Cerise turned. “It’s getting worse,” she said.
    Yes, it was. This was by far the worst storm he’d seen in quite some time.
    “If tomorrow is cloudy, she won’t see you then either,” Cerise said.
    He stifled a frown. He’d figured as much. Yet this house, despite its immensity, was becoming too small. If the old woman had wanted him trapped here with her granddaughter, she’d succeeded.
    “So we occupy ourselves,” he replied. He couldn’t let it get to him.
    “We?” she asked.
    He didn’t respond right away, instead concentrating on his food. It was quite good, but then he expected as much. Mrs. Delacroix had high standards for everything. Not until he taken his last bite did he look up at Cerise. She’d been finished long ago, from the expression on her face. She was calm and relaxed again, not at all the frightened girl who’d asked for a kiss.
    A contradiction. He mulled the differences over. She liked to project an image of control when maybe her insides weren’t as settled. He could understand that. It probably came from living with the history of this house. But where her exterior seemed hard, where she’d encased herself in a cocoon for protection, really it was as transparent as the glass he was known for. Oh, there were colors involved, acids mixed in to give the object red or gold shades, any number of other hues, but still, when brought to the light, you saw through it. Only then, it was more rare, more precious, than it would have been if made plain.
    “I want to see the rest,” he said.
    Her gaze deepened to a fine shade of amber. Not nondescript as she’d suggested, but an alluring orange-gold.
    “The third floor?” she asked.
    He nodded. “You can stay here or go along.” It made no difference. He was going up regardless. He simply had to see a space neglected for so long.
    “I’ll go,” she said. “There’s nothing there but my grandmother’s memories.”
    He stared at the irony of that. This whole house was made of her grandmother’s memories.
    Cerise stood to her feet and motioned at the door. “Come.”
    He rose and followed.
    The third floor was a cavern, one large empty space lined with three inches of dust. Only two large objects sat in it, both covered in a bed sheet. Along the far wall, a set of dormer windows looked out over what was probably a fantastic view on a clear day.
    Andre steadied his breath. The climb to get there was, to say the least, tortuous, the hallways long and winding, the staircase steep, and a bit rickety as well, it not having been used in quite some time.
    “Your grandmother doesn’t have this kept clean?” he asked. She tended to everything else. Even the empty guest bedrooms were spotless.
    “ This was grandfather’s space.”
    Which didn’t answer his question. Andre glanced behind, meeting her gaze. “He came up here a lot?”
    “He practically lived here, pretty much never coming down except for meals or an occasional visit to her.”
    An occasional visit to his wife? Andre stepped in further and ran his fingers down the grimy wall. “Then why is it empty? He didn’t have … things?”
    “She sold them.”
    Another curiosity. Why would a woman who clung to everything else she owned, sell what belonged to her husband?
    Cerise’s next statement gave a hint to the answer. “He was cruel, made fun of her and refused her things. He was also unstable.”
    “Like your great-grandfather?” Andre asked. “Did he also bay at the moon?”
    She smiled softly. “No. His was more anger. He was apt