CHAPTER 8
I read the letter twice, trying to make the words stick in my brain, but they kept breaking apart. I couldn't seem to wrap my head around the concepts. Things like prison, dead, no happy ending-- they couldn't be true, I didn't want them to be true. All my life, I'd been looking for a man who wasn't there, who didn't even know I existed.
"You look so pale, Jamie. Are you alright?" my aunt asked. "I know it's a lot to--"
"I'm sorry," I said, "I have to go."
She took my hand and squeezed it. "Why don't you stay for dinner? Adam will be home soon with the dogs. I know he'd love to see you."
I shook my head. "I can't, Aunt Peg. I need to be alone right now."
On the short drive to my house on Polk Street, I tried to clear my head and think about nothing. When that didn't work, I
