T
ess couldn’t sleep. Her mind swirled with various images, one blurring into the next. The photograph of her father, Aaron, emerging from the hotel closet dressed in blue, the last moments before her car veered off the road, Chuck slapping the wine glass from her hand, and Cap’s body on top of hers.
She sat up and stared into the darkness. It felt strange to be sleeping back in the rectory. She hadn’t seen Cap since she left his woodshop. She had thought—hoped—that he might wander down and ask her to join him for dinner. But more importantly, she wanted him to ask her to lie at his side once again.
She climbed out of bed and peered through the window toward the house—not a single light burning. She felt the sudden urge to tell Cap everything. Who she was. What she had done. Why she ha
