POV: Yessica | Location: Perthshire, Scotland
Her father's house smelled like lentil soup.
Yessica stood at the front door and stood there for five seconds longer than necessary, just breathing it in.
She knocked anyway.
Theron Lockwood opened the door before she finished knocking.
He was sixty-two, gray at the temples, dressed in a wool jumper she recognized from fifteen years ago. He looked smaller than she remembered, or maybe she'd just been carrying too much to notice how people aged.
They stood at the threshold, looking at each other.
Then he stepped forward and pulled her into his arms without a word.
Yessica pressed her face against his shoulder.
Fourteen months without hearing his voice.
She was crying before she could stop it.
The kitchen was warm. The soup was already
