Take me to the Stone Room. She hated tricking Shari, whose joy for life was the only thing that made her naive enough to fall for laced iced tea or hot cocoa, depending on the season. All who lived there aspired to be something greater, all who lived there had hope, even the slaves! Oh, Lucia, if you could have seen the Parthenon, or attended the plays at the Athaneum, you would know why I loved it there. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. She took up the poker and stirred the fire vigorously.
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