chapter four
There was music in the air, in her mind and all around her. From some adjacent apartment she heard an operatic aria she didn’t recognize. A soprano with incredible rage lifted notes on airy pedestals like offerings to gods. It was enough to meditate on as she relaxed in Sadie Holt’s living room. Unlike her chintz and flowers, Sadie was much more minimalist in her style. With cream and tan-colored fabrics and flashes of crimson in the throw pillows and the arrangement of silk flowers on the glass coffee table, she felt strangely clean in these surroundings. Clean of Jacob without his moods and clamorous melodies stinging even the breezes that blew through the windows. Was she free of him? It was hard to say. She respected Adam Cady’s probing examination of her motives
