Chapter 35
Steph stared at a sharp line on the kitchen table, the spot where rich, yellow wood butted up against wood so dark she could barely see any grain or details.
Her little brother Ryan had walked them all through each and every bit of wood the day it was delivered. Describing what each piece was and where each piece came from, explaining how he’d gotten all the joins so smooth and seamless. His pride so evident in his voice, his eyes, even his hands.
Try as she might—and no matter how desperately she needed something, anything else to think about—Steph couldn’t call the name for even one of those pieces of wood to mind.
All she could do was stare at it, doing her level best to wedge it permanently into her mind and memory.
If she could concentrate enough on that, maybe she cou
