The Wrong Way to Read a PictureThaís spotted the exhibition leaflet inside Klaus’s notebook before he could hide it beneath his arm. “You prepared for Saturday. Of course you did.” He offered it with a smile, and she leafed past the financial tables to retrieve it. “Then you can tell me whether the paintings obeyed the plan.”
What She Wanted on FridayOn Friday, Júlia told Stefan to bring dinner and not a laptop. He arrived carrying two hot paper bags with a solemnity that made her laugh. One handle had broken in the taxi; a patch of sauce darkened his shirt.
