28 January, 1941 - Beverly Hills, California
“Jon is married?” The words sliced through Danielle’s heart with a sweep as broad as a scythe.
Abigail stood on Danielle’s front steps in a soft robin’s egg blue day suit of Danielle’s design, clutching a wrinkled telegram. “We were surprised, too. My brother, he’s always so impetuous, but we had no idea he was planning on taking the plunge so soon.”
Danielle cast her eyes down and nodded in numb agreement, blood thrumming in her ears. Jon’s last visit reeled through her mind like a Shakespearean tragedy. How could he? Obviously, he’d married Victoria on the rebound. But wasn’t that what was planned, before he and Danielle had met? Isn’t it only right?
Her limbs began to shake involuntarily. She reached for the stone door frame to steady her
