26
EBONY
Ebony was exhausted. She opened the door of the Altona house, locked it behind her, threw the keys onto the hall table, and took off her shoes. She made her way into the bright, airy kitchen that usually filled her with peace, but today left her feeling empty and even more alone.
She tried Brad’s number again. Still no answer.
She made a cup of tea and took it upstairs to sit on the balcony to read notebook five. The wind had turned and was coming from the south, bringing with it a biting cold. She closed the French doors and sat on the couch. It faced the windows, but the view wasn’t as clear.
Notebook five, the one she was working on when Brad shot her—she instinctively reached to her left side—hadn’t been written in since. She started on page one. Her notes planned a seque
