CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
It was late afternoon when Charlotte pulled up outside a rundown, white weatherboard house in a Brisbane suburb. At one point she’d thought she’d typically taken the wrong turn as most of the homes along here were modern, two storied affairs with new, perfect gardens. But she’d remembered the way and couldn’t believe how a street could transform in only a few years. She’d always heard a saying about buying the worst house in the best street if you wanted value and when she put this place on the market, the recent trend in this suburb might get Angelica more than anyone would think possible.
Nothing had changed. If anything, the place was in worse condition than the last time she’d been here. And she’d been here only long enough to pack what she’d needed to move Angeli
