Status Updates From Snow (St. John Strafford, #2)

Through the window he saw that the clouds were gone. How strange the sky looked, scoured clean and of a powdery blueness, naked - no, nude, after days of being wrapped in layers of dirty cotton.

By the green glow from the dashboard he saw the young man's eyes in the driving mirror swivel to meet his own. Why is it, he wondered, that people always seem so sinister when they look at you in the mirror like that? It was like being spied at through a letter box.

He accepted the coat and the gloves, but declined the cap with the ear flaps. There were limits, and a deerstalker hat was well beyond them.