PREVIEW

...

Isabella sagte nichts. Sie musste es nicht. Sie verlagerte nicht ihr Gewicht, erhob nicht ihre Stimme.

Alles, was sie tat, war, ihr Glas leicht in der Hand zu neigen, nicht einmal genug, um etwas zu verschütten. Nur eine Neigung. Eine beiläufige Geste. Die Art, die man übersehen würde, wenn man nicht bereits zusah.

Aber sie sahen zu.

Die Männer am Tisch waren bereits verstummt, ihre Blicke huschten zwischen einander hin und her, versuchten, die Stimmung im Raum zu les ...

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