Instead, he cast a quick, scalding look back at her before stopping at a door, set into the wall to their right. She hadn’t noticed there was a wall, let alone a door, until he threw the iron catch and pushed the heavy oak open to reveal a magnificent landscape—a small patch of green, surrounded on its edges by a stunning garden in what Grace was certain daylight would expose as vibrant flowerbeds. And at the center, a gazebo, beautifully designed and painted.
Very similar to the butterfly garden at stony cross park. I love it.
