The next morning was bright and beautiful, a typical May day that promised warmth but not real heat. I spent about twenty minutes agonizing over what to wear and finally settled on my favorite pair of jeans and an embroidered peasant top, along with some jeweled flip-flops Sydney had talked me into. They showed off the pedicure I’d gotten the week before — before my entire world had changed. My toes gleamed hot pink, matching the embroidery on the blouse I wore. In the mirror, I looked fresh and relaxed, ready for summer. Connor had never seen me like this, and I wondered if he would appreciate the change in my appearance. But at least he’d always liked me in jeans, and I figured I might as well squeeze myself into them while I still could.
Then I was out the door and heading down the hil
