The air inside the Owen living room felt heavy, thick with the scent of expensive perfume, stale tobacco, and false smiles. Hazel stood just inside the doorway, snow melting on her coat, cold wind curling around her ankles. The three faces in front of her had stiffened with shock at her appearance, but they recovered quickly. They had expected a meek girl with lowered eyes and trembling hands. Instead, they saw something different. A version of Hazel they did not recognize. A Hazel who had returned with the quiet sharpness of a blade hidden under silk.
Fortunately for them, they had already shown Mr. Ned a photograph of Hazel without makeup the day before in order to secure his interest. If he had only seen her current ghostly appearance, his greedy mind might have hesitated. Karen reacte
