Mag-log inI scrunched down in my seat, cheeks red with humiliation. Claire strutted across the parking lot, hips swinging, and got in the car with her muscular companion. He’d climbed in the back with Ethan, but he and Claire seemed really comfortable together. She’d given him her keys and their hands had almost touched! Who was this guy?I thought back to when I’d first seen him…*** “Who is that guy?” Bernard asked. I reluctantly pulled my attention away from my noodles. “What guy?”“The guy sitting with Claire and Savannah. The effortlessly macho hunk with the hazel eyes,” Bernard said. I followed his gaze and then quickly looked away. I’d spent the whole memorial service trying to avoid Savannah and didn’t want to draw her attention now. I wouldn’t call him “an effortlessly macho hunk,” but I guess he was handsome if you liked that sort of thing. Claire didn’t. She liked stylish, dignified men. He was leaning forward, listening intently to what she was saying. She seemed relaxed, comple
I showed the guard my concealed carry permit and he gave me a key for one of the lockers along the wall. I put my purse on one of the shelves and then pulled my gun out of its holster and laid it beside my bag. Victor smiled slightly. “You’re full of surprises.” “You’re not…” I checked out his silhouette. I didn’t think about him that way at all, but I could understand what Savannah saw in him. Dude was built. “No. Not the best idea coming here.” He grinned. “You can protect me.” “I don’t know about that,” I said. “I’m taking classes at the range twice a week, but the gun is a last-minute hail Mary.” I sighed. “I wouldn’t look to me for protection. Probably shoot myself in the foot.” Victor emptied his pockets into one of the trays. “We’re not supposed to bring anything inside,” he said quietly to Ethan as he helped him with his stuff. He didn’t seem concerned about his possible vulnerability. Instead, he put his hand on my shoulder and looked me sternly in the eye. “Don’t t
“How do I look?” Ethan signed. He combed his hair and adjusted his shirt again. “Really good,” I replied. “The color sets off your eyes.” This was his first time visiting his dad in prison. I’d asked about it before, and they’d told me it wasn’t allowed. I didn’t know what Adrian had done to change that. Maybe it was privileges awarded for good behavior. Maybe he’d bribed and/or intimidated the right people.Either way, Ethan was a ball of nerves. He was even regressing back into silence. He hadn’t spoken all morning. I put my hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eye. “Ethan, your father loves you. He’ll be thrilled to see you no matter what you’re wearing.” He looked down. “Really?”“Yes, really. Even if you were wearing—” I took a moment to think about it. “—A bright purple shirt. With orange polka-dots. Only, instead of polka-dots, they’re eyeballs!” I opened my eyes wide.He laughed, his voice breathy. But then he went back to looking anxiously in the mirror. My phone
I was happily digging into my plate of noodles when Savannah and Victor walked in together. They were looking rumpled and smug, and my eyebrows rose. Well. Good for them. I turned my attention back to my noodles. It had been ten years since I had some and I wasn’t going to let anything distract me. “Mommy, what are these little green things for?” Emma held up a calamansi. I didn’t know where Hilda had gotten them, but they made the dish extra-special.“It’s like a little lemon, honey,” I said. “You squeeze it onto your noodles, like this.” I demonstrated. Then I loaded up my fork for my first ecstatic bite.Savannah and Victor slid in next to me. “Hi Claire, how’s it going?” Savannah said. “Good. Really excellent, as a matter of fact.” I felt bad for a moment, saying that at the memorial luncheon for their dead baby. But then I put my fork in my mouth and forgot about it.“Victor wants to talk to you.” I held up my hand until I finished chewing and swallowing. “Sure!” I said. “I’
“If you love me so much, then come back to me.” I hated the whine I heard in my voice. I was trying to make it light, joking, to mimic the way we usually dealt with each other. The thing we had was so strong that we’d never talked about feelings. We just coasted along on the surface, insulting each other, fighting and making up. I’d never had to worry. I always knew that I’d only have to look up, and he’d be there. Our connection had worked—until we had to deal with reality. With the new life we’d made together. Even then, when I’d packed my things and run, I knew that he’d come after me. Now, we were dealing with the death of that life. And I had no idea what to do, what to say. “We can start over,” I said, feeling my way along. “We can still leave for Europe. We can go anywhere.”He let out a short, humorless laugh and took a step back. Shit. I was only making things worse.“We can’t start over, Savannah. Look at us.” His gesture took in him and me, and the monument to our dea
“Let me go.” I shrugged her off my sister’s hand. “I can walk fine by myself.” “Okay,” she said soothingly. That just made me madder. “What is it you want me to see, anyway?”“This way.” She beckoned me onwards.We turned left and followed the path into the older section of the cemetery. The grass was taller here, shaded by massive oaks. The gravel path turned to dirt, winding between crumbling stone vaults and 19th-century obelisks. We walked in silence for a moment, the only sound the crunch of our footsteps and the distant hum of traffic behind the stone walls. “I didn’t want today to be about… what happened at the factory,” Claire said softly, her eyes on the path ahead. “I wanted it be about him, I wanted him to have a place, a real place.” “There is no body, Claire,” I said. My tone was harsher than I intended, but underneath the bravado I could hear the pain I was trying to hide. The hospital had taken care of the medical waste. That’s what they’d called him in the paperw
I closed my eyes and stabbed at the keyboard. This was something I had grown to dread over the past few weeks. Every day had become a battlefield as I forced myself to go against my natural inclinations.I took a deep breath and opened one eye, praying it wouldn’t be too bad this morning. It was.
“Mister Arden.” Detective Lowinsky looked tired and depressed as usual. I’d expected him to look happier. After all, he’d caught the bad guy. “Please, call me Derek,” I said. “So did he tell you who hired him?”“Unfortunately not.” He beckoned me to follow and led me down a hallway. “You know,
I leaned against the wall, legs trembling with nervous reaction. Tonight was supposed to be my triumph. And indeed things were going well. Unfortunately, that had upset both my sister and my ex-husband, and they’d felt the need to make their feelings my problem. Now I was stressed out and exhausted
Mrs. Sutton was packing up the last of the vanity, neatly placing Savannah’s expensive skincare serums in a box. She kept her face neutral and professional, but my housekeeper had never liked Savannah. I could see the satisfaction in the way she wrapped the tape around the boxes, sharp and final.







