Chapter 5
Quinn walked straight through the kitchen, boots making a faint crackling sound on the dry linoleum. She dodged around the huge rectangular table that still held a sunflower-shaped napkin holder, cheery yellow salt and pepper shakers, and an iridescent tan vase full of desiccated flowers.
She pushed white curtains covered with printed daisies aside, willing the heavy old double-hung window to open instead of jamming. Turning the curved lock proved to be a finger-straining trick, but the solid bottom section rolled up smoothly. Not a single one of the six little panes of glass rattled.
She smiled at the faint thunk of the pulley and weight hidden inside the window’s frame adjusting, one of her most-loved old-school technologies that worked better than the modern alternative. Or
