She had always loved storms, their volatile energy, the way the clouds hugged every inch of land and saturated it with rain. She nodded her understanding and turned back to the window to stare at the ominous clouds on the horizon. She…the woman, I mean, survived.”īlythe’s husband was dead, but his mistress was alive. It seemed fitting somehow that the skies would rage today. She stared at a rivulet of water as it slid down the glass. Sheets of rain poured down outside and pelted the window with fat droplets. “Was he traveling alone?” She knew the answer, or at least she suspected it. Perhaps a desire to rage at the quirk of fate that had brought her here. After a year of not knowing where her husband was, there should be grief, sadness. “Did you hear me?” Adam’s hand landed on her shoulder and squeezed lightly. Blythe’s brother’s words echoed in her head as she peered out her bedroom window at the black clouds. My brothers, Jim and Tye, without whom childhood would not hold such great memories.įor my son, Connor, for being the light of my life.Īnd to the hero in my heart, my husband, David, just because you are you.
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