Chapter Four
In a row of aging brick buildings, hers stood out distinctly, having been restored in recent years. Lofts on three levels had become the new penthouses for the slightly offbeat. Savannah’s was on the top floor, requiring two full flights of stairs to reach the landing. She’d changed the doorway, replacing the sliding metal door with solid oak panels that swung wide on hinges and locked with three deadbolts when she didn’t feel secure. The third floor was the least convenient to the street, but the most unique, half the space a greenhouse that became her bedroom in the spring until it was too cold in the fall to sleep there comfortably at night. With windows on three sides of her, she felt the elements of the city sweep round her; thunderstorms flashed their fiery bursts a
