CHAPTER EIGHT
Word spread rapidly around the small town that the old school boarding house was now occupied by a widow. People who had avoided the building ventured to take a look, with some even bold enough to ring the doorbell, keen to meet the brave woman who’d taken on the place.
Audrey was surprised by her new celebrity and quite enjoyed being the focus of attention. Perhaps her showbiz inclination from her time as a dancer and model was bubbling to the surface.
Lying in the narrow bed, with its worn springs, she felt welcomed by the house, even comfortable. She had been dreaming of her husband. They were both in their twenties, and she wanted to hold onto the feeling. But, as with morning mist, it evaporated the more she was awake.
Audrey was making tea in the kitchen when the do
