The flames leaping inside the cremation furnace seemed to be burning straight through my heart.I raised my hand and slapped myself hard across the face.If I'd had a driver's license, if I hadn't trusted Caleb Foster, maybe my mother, Helen Lane, would still be alive.Caleb heard the smack over the phone and apparently assumed I'd thrown my phone in a fit of anger."Yvette Lane, enough already," he said impatiently. "Yara's worried you're going to obsess over this, so she specifically asked me to call and check on you. Why can't the two of you just get along?"Get along?The sting burning across my cheek had never left me more clearheaded.A year ago, Caleb had made an exception and hired Yara Cole even though she'd dropped out of high school. All I'd done was question the decision once, and she'd held it against me ever since.If I spent eight thousand dollars on a business trip, she'd approve eighty for reimbursement. The next day, she'd deliberately alter one of my project proposal
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