Broken Double Pane Window Now

Mrs. Gable followed my gaze. “That thing’s been in the wall for six months. You think it… what? Got mad in its sleep?”

We walked to the living room. The picture window faced the street—two panes of glass, double-glazed low-E argon-filled, the kind that costs a month’s mortgage. The outer pane was flawless. You could see your reflection in it, clear as a baptism. But the inner pane? broken double pane window

Tink.

Or let something in.