第二十二章: 我们的低语，我们的尖叫 What We Whispered and What We Screamed | 你当像鸟飞往你的山

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When I arrived at the peak, Mother was making the Thanksgiving meal. The large oak table was covered with jars of tincture and vials of essential oil, which I cleared away. Charles was coming for dinner.

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Shawn was in a mood. He sat on a bench at the table, watching me gather the bottles and hide them. I'd washed Mother's china, which had never been used, and I began laying it out, eyeing the distance between each plate and knife.

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第二十二章: 我们的低语，我们的尖叫 What We Whispered and What We Screamed
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