Chapter Twenty
I didn’t.
After I first met Sin, keeping my joy a secret had been intolerable. Secret grief was worse.
It was sorrow unshared, bottled, and disguised. For weeks I had sustained myself through my days with the certainty that I would see her Focus in the drive when I got home. When I opened the door I still expected to find her kneeling with the cane in her mouth. I always checked the answering machine before I took off my coat. From the corner of my eye I would see her ghost move silently through the house, disappearing when I turned my head to see her better. There were times when I wondered if Sin had ever really been there at all.
In the evenings I drove to the city. She wouldn’t have stayed in Derryville, not with brighter lights and anonymity so close at hand. I crui
