"I remember someone coming over to talk to him the night before he died", says Carl.
"Where was I?" says Melissa querulously.
"You would have been in your room."
"Oh, that's right. I was sleeping way off in the other wing of the house."
"You really seemed to enjoy your space back in the day", says Carl, in such a tone that only a brother would use with his little sister.
"Don´t start. Anyway, what happened?"
"This guy came over. A bit older than dad. I was seated in the breakfast room eating ice cream. before he came in the house, Dad sent me up to my room. But I had a distinct impression of him. He seemed very taut, and intense. And I did not like the look on his face, the little I could see of him from the window. So, I obeyed, sort of. I paused for a while on the stairs, and they were seated in the small reception room. I couldn't exactly hear his voice, but he seemed to have a bit of an accent, but too faint to identify. But dad must have caught a glimpse of me, because he came out and firmly ordered me up to my room, in that voice and tone of his that you know you dare not defy. Kind of like you, Mel."
"The apple doesn't rot far from the tree", she says flatly.
"I do remember one thing that dad said to this guy. ?Haven't I strictly ordered you to stay away from this house while my children are visiting!' But then he lowered his voice again and I picked up nothing else."
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