Sam was quite surprised, or rather, utterly astonished.
It was already late at night, a time when many would have long been asleep. Yet here was this woman, Celeste, sitting in the living room in the chill of a winter night, dressed in clothes that hardly seemed warm, gazing out at the night view of the front yard.
She was enjoying the moment far too comfortably, sipping on coffee.
Sam couldn't just pretend he hadn't seen or heard her. He politely lingered at the doorway, then said courteously, "Godmother, why are you still up at this hour, drinking coffee alone?"
Since he had spoken, it was only polite to walk over and sit opposite her.
Celeste's gaze shifted from the moonlight in the front yard to the young man's face. Her soft look seemed as if it could melt into the water, or perhaps her gaze was always a grand illusion.
