into air that smelled like damp leaves and cold dirt. My car was in the driveway, but Quincy shook his head.
“Garage sensor,” he whispered. “Grandma gets alerts.”
I almost laughed because it was too much.
Instead, we walked.
The cemetery was six blocks from the house, behind the white church where Garrett and I had married under Nadine’s white roses. Moonlight continue reading …