Erica set down the lamp. “You didn’t come here to talk about my lighting.”
“I’m observing,” Queenie replied. “There’s a difference.” erica cherry and queenie sateen
They stood there, two women who approached the world from opposite shores, meeting in the middle of a darkening room. Erica set down the lamp
Erica finally looked up. Queenie’s expression was unreadable, but her eyes—those sharp, knowing eyes—flicked over the cluttered desk, the scattered photographs, the open journal filled with cramped handwriting. but her eyes—those sharp