Sable, he said. Weston. His voice sounded smaller than I remembered. Is there still a way for me to be part of her life?
I looked into the living room. Marlo had fallen asleep on the rug surrounded by board books, one hand resting on the belly of a stuffed rabbit. She had my mouth, Uncle Elliot’s stubborn chin, and a laugh that made Odette insist the continue reading …
