It’s a shot in the dark, that she’ll be at her house, but my calls are being directed to voicemail, and I don’t know where else to try. I glance over at the bouquet of peonies and roses on the passenger seat. I’d buy her a carload if it will get her to talk to me. I’ve had hours to rehearse, to reflect. So many things make sense now- the initial tension when Alison first introduced me to her family. They knew. My gut clenches as the guilt roils my stomach for the umpteenth time.
I pull to a stop in front of the house, and a gust of relief blows through me when I see my rental car in the driveway. I drum the steering wheel, gathering my courage. My thoughts return again to Jason. Karma. When does it end? I have to accept that it might not. I swallow down a lump. All I can do is try. I grab
