It had been three days since Loretta left the house in a blur of fury only to come home late and ignoring him.
Martin hadn't asked where she'd gone. She hadn’t offered to say. There had been a tense awkwardness since then.
He hadn’t intended to look through her things. He was just cleaning the house.
The living room had been a mess since the week before, and he needed something to do with his hands.
That’s when he found a broken picture frame.
The glass had cracked clean across, a jagged line slicing through the smiling image of Loretta and her mother.
Dust clung to the edges, but it was still beautiful. Her mother had the same guarded smile Loretta wore sometimes, the same sharp eyes that missed nothing.
It must have fallen at some point and gone unnoticed or maybe Loretta had
