Whispers in the Dark

At two o'clock in the morning, the heavy rain that had threatened all evening began to fall over Manhattan, drumming a rhythmic, hypnotic cadence against the massive arched windows of the Soho penthouse. The loft was quiet, illuminated only by the soft amber glow of the linear fireplace and the twinkling lights of the city washed in rain. Clara stood in the grand living salon, slipping off her gold satin…