Charles
A blizzard had come to Mooncrest. It couldn’t have come at a better time. I glanced over at the little cookie trophy Cecil, and I had won. Usually, it would make me smile, but it wasn’t doing the usual work of lifting my mood.
I was pissed. Margaret seemed sure that I had nothing to worry about, but I couldn’t shake the feeling.
She’s not that stupid, Margaret said.
While I didn’t know exactly what she was getting at, I knew enough to know that the draw of the familiar, the unencumbered, and everything else that Jackson represented would be appealing to any woman fresh out of a divorce and unsteady, especially with the promise that felt ready to break at any moment between us. I sat at the desk in the corner of the office Grace had given me and tried to focus on the thing
