Whether the glowing treasure in front of me on my desk brought good luck or bad, I was its new secret owner.
"If you learn to handle the wealth of information the Bukh offers, your life will be improved in countless ways.”
“I did not, as I claimed for most of my life, find the Bukh by accident in a store in Bucharest.
I opened it carefully and withdrew two documents: a note from her, explaining how and where she’d found the Bukh.
How many Bukhs were still in existence? Perhaps only this one.
The car, of course, would be taken care of, but I felt as if I’d been singled out, marked as a victim.
I traveled home the next day, feeling crappy and exhausted. My search for the Bukh, both Victor’s and Daniel’s, had ended in failure.
“When I was a little boy,” Eric said, “my mother used to always invite family members living in Toronto for shabbat dinner. Aunts, uncles, cousins. I think she was lonely and missed the days of ...
Disappeared into some kind of black hole? WTF? Both Maria and Sabina had seen the Bukh with their own eyes in Gheorghe’s apartment in the house in Brasov. Maria claims to have destroyed it.
“No kidding!” I said excitedly. “I’m doing some research on Daniel Gottlieb. Can you please tell me the whole story?”