CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Charlotte closed the door and leaned against it, eyes shut, and arms hugging herself.
Why keep doing this, Charlie?
From downstairs, Rosie’s voice drifted, raised. Agitated. Charlotte couldn’t make out any words, but the tone was there. Rosie was upset with Trevor.
Everything was falling apart. Her safe apartment wasn’t safe. Rosie’s house either. The town was not the peaceful little village it appeared, but as Rosie once said, a den of iniquity. Bad people doing bad things. And now mother and son against each other.
She wanted to run. Let her legs carry her as far and fast as they could until there wasn’t an ounce of energy in her body. To the falls where she’d seek refuge beneath the shady trees on the soft green grass beside the glassy pool and hear nothing but
