![]() The weather had been gratefully clear outside when I moved in, but it was still cold enough where the snow wouldn’t be melting anytime soon. I warmed myself, tossing that invite on the kitchen counter before kicking off my snow boots. I’d barely been here three days, and there were still boxes stacked around. My boots soaked, I stepped delicately over the salted walk, then back into my new house. ![]() I’d just hopped outside to put the trash out, my legs beading in goosebump pimples as I hadn’t even thought to put a coat on. ![]() ![]() I slammed the mailbox closed, wanting to get out of the slush and ice of the Midwest. He was getting married.Īnd he was doing it with a woman half his age.Ĭlarise could very well be my sister at her age, and here Dad was embarrassing himself, embarrassing me. My dad, a once respected man in our law-abiding community, had finally done it. All I could do not to shred the wedding invitation in my hands. My teeth gnashed together reading over the calligraphy. The elegant writing blurred beneath my fingertips, two names. ![]() This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. ![]()
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