Lydia sat in her burnt orange recliner on the second floor of the cottage, the view out the window absolute perfection. Blue sky. Golden sand. Brightly colored umbrellas, towels, people.
Lydia sat in her burnt orange recliner on the second floor of the cottage, the view out the window absolute perfection. Blue sky. Golden sand. Brightly colored umbrellas, towels, people.Her heart sobbed, and she blinked back her tears and focused on the ivory paper in her journal.
Her heart sobbed, and she blinked back her tears and focused on the ivory paper in her journal.She’d tried to start this entry four or five times, and each time she’d failed. Each time, she’d put more and more blame on herself. Why hadn’t she gone back and searched the trees the moment Caroline had left? Perhaps Louisa would’ve
