Kenneth Bernoska

21%
Flag icon
Finally they reach a gate, and he sets her down on a curbstone and pushes an electric buzzer, and she can hear it ring deep within a house. Nothing. He presses again. Again nothing. He presses a third time. “This is the house of your uncle?” “It is.” “He doesn’t know us,” she says. “He’s sleeping. As we should be.”
All the Light We Cannot See
Rate this book
Clear rating
Open Preview