Chapter Seventeen
The house was quiet. Elizabeth stood at the head of the stairs after putting Madeline to bed and singing a record's worth of songs. She’d have to think about a three-song limit at bedtime. A light flicked on the floor below. Someone had gone into Hanna’s room.
She descended the stairs quietly and peeked through the banisters to see James standing in the middle of the room, hands shoved deep into his pockets. Steeling a breath, Elizabeth walked the rest of the stairs and halted at the door.
“You know, I haven’t come into this room for years. Not since Hanna…” He bent his head, words choking him.
Elizabeth slowly came to his side. She really had no idea how to offer comfort, except to touch his arm lightly. Sometimes, though, when life got tough, it was best to talk it
