A hand emerged from the darkness and placed a steaming mug—Greg's favorite mug—on the table.
"Drink."
"What is this?" Greg demanded, starting to rise from his chair. "You can't—"
He'd barely moved ...  [+]

It was Yolkov who bought Hanna's ticket on the overnight flight from Warsaw to JFK. Hair streaked with gray, she wore the blue dress purchased on sale for eighteen dollars.   "Better to fly later and ...  [+]