directed at me.
I almost hung up. I truly did. My thumb hovered over the red button for half a second.
Then I heard her laugh.
It was soft, nervous, familiar.
And my entire body went cold.
Lydia.
My Lydia.
The woman who had held my hand at my mother’s funeral. The woman who had helped me choose my wedding dress. The woman who still had a key to my house because continue reading …
