“P apa?” Aster calls. “It is late.” She picks up a book from the dining room table closes it carefully and places it on the shelf.
“Harumph.”
“Papa why do you not retire for the night?”
When Papa does not answer Aster scurries over to the study. “Papa?”
He sits at his desk unmoving the large map of Europe open before him. Aster peers over his shoulder. He has finished the coastline of Italy but that was done weeks ago. Last week he had told her that he was beginning with the island of England and Scotland. Aster’s eyes parse the parchment but there is only blankness. Blankness covered in a patina of dust.
