I Went to Prison for a Crime I Didn’t Commit to Protect Him — Five Years Later, a Forged DNA Test Nearly Buried the Truth Again
She’s only sweeping so she can buy me some food.”
And the leather briefcase in Flynn Vance’s hand slipped from his fingers, and dropped, and sank into the snow.
Chapter 7 — The Marble Floor
Flynn ordered Doyle to bring us inside, into the warm foyer, at once.
And Mason stopped dead on the threshold, staring at an expanse of white marble larger than any room he had ever stood in — and then he sat straight down on the floor and began, with cold-clumsy fingers, to untie his soaked, ruined sneakers.
“I don’t want to make your pretty house dirty, sir,” he whispered.
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