"You'll get what you want." Violet Ross delivered the words in a voice scraped clean of every emotion, then ended the call. She sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the bare wall opposite, motionless except for the tears that rolled one after another down her cheeks.
There is a grief deeper than weeping, a place where sorrow burns itself out and leaves only ash. That was where she found herself now. Every feeling she had ever carried for Morgan Lewis had been cremated in a single phone call, and the ashes held no warmth at all. She had loved him once, or believed she did. She had trusted his promises and tolerated his absences and swallowed every excuse he offered. And all along she had been nothing more than a tool stored in a drawer, taken out when useful and pushed aside the instan
