Скачать или смотреть WHEN HE HEARD THE CLEANING LADY PLAYING HIS MISSING DAUGHTER’S SONG, THE MILLIONAIRE FROZE...

WHEN HE HEARD THE CLEANING LADY PLAYING HIS MISSING DAUGHTER’S SONG, THE MILLIONAIRE FROZE...

The mansion stood like a monument to emptiness.
Richard Walker pressed his palm against the study window, watching the sun bleed orange across the Austin hills. Another day ending. Another night beginning. The cycle had repeated itself so many times now that he'd stopped counting years and started counting routines instead. Wake up. Coffee. Work. Sleep. Repeat.
He was forty-four years old and felt ancient.
The house behind him sprawled across three floors of marble and mahogany, every room perfectly decorated by designers he'd never met, filled with furniture no one sat on. The gardens outside stretched for acres, maintained by a crew that came on Tuesdays. He never went out there anymore. Hadn't in years. The last time he'd walked those paths, Margaret had still lived here, and the flower beds hadn't felt like gravesites.
Seventeen years.