"Yvonne Navarro - Zachary's Glass Shope2" - читать интересную книгу автора (Navarro Yvonne)

bottom of the box with those same initials written on it in a thick script.
If the frame were broken, he'd said, the woman would die.
Channing had asked the obvious questions: What was the woman's name? And what
kind of personal object?
Zachary wouldn't say. The lives were chosen by the personal 'objects' -- he
would not be specific -- themselves obtained purely by chance. The sense of
unreality grew when Zachary claimed to know nothing but the person's name,
and
that only by his so-called second sight.
What a tale! Channing smiled wistfully. It was Miranda' s gift, sure, but the
person he longed most to share it with was his twin sister Adrienne. He
closed
his eyes and remembered the way she'd looked earlier, when he'd left; the
sleep-tousled hair from their short nap, her swollen lips and creamy skin...
"Jesus! Get up, you filthy animal! Get out -- and you! Slut! Your own
brother..."
The voice was a vicious memory from the past and he pushed it from his mind.
So
what, he thought bitterly. The parents hadn't understood the twins, the
closeness, the love. When two people shared so much -- even the womb -- no
one
else could ever truly substitute. He supposed it was a form of double
narcissism, him loving himself in female form, her loving herself in male
form.
But for the eyes -- hers gray, his green, they were mirror images.
Personalities
were different, of course, the result of being shipped to separate boarding
schools at sixteen. It must have been the teen bitches that had nurtured the
streak of petty cruelty in Adrienne, and he freely admitted to being able to
out-connive almost anyone to get what he wanted. But still, in every other
way
they fit together like the pieces of one of those silly-looking broken heart
necklaces. Someday it'd be just the two of them.
Channing buckled his seatbelt and started the car, glancing at the box once
more
before pulling away. A small gilded sticker that said Zachary's Glass Shoppe
secured the top flap. There was no address and Zachary had told him he didn't
believe in telephones.
Maybe someday soon.
 Miranda was captivated by the gift. She played with it and poked at it and
at
one point Channing thought she might pry the piece apart to see what was
inside.
His stomach knotted a little as he watched her fingernails picking at the
glass
filaments; it was embarrassing to realize he worried about the well-being of
some unknown person, but there was a definite draining of tenseness when she
finally found a place of honor for the frame in one of the oak display
cabinets.
Although she'd listened with interest to its history, the parchment had gone