I thought of my mother, Ruth, dead ten years now.
Half of Millfield still called her a saint. She’d taught Sunday school for forty years and never missed a casserole for a grieving neighbor.
« Mama would’ve spoiled her rotten. »
Carol’s fingers tightened around mine. « Walt, I’ve been a good wife to you, haven’t I? »
Half of Millfield still called her a saint.
The question caught me sideways. « You’ve been the best thing that ever happened to me. »
Her eyes filled. « I need you to promise me something. Say yes before I tell you what it is. »
After thirty-six years, I didn’t hesitate.
« Anything. »
Carol drew a slow breath. « Find Anna, please. You’ll understand everything once you find her. And please… forgive me in advance. »
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