“Surprise me,” I repeated, and the word tasted like rust.
“We have a buyer lined up,” Graves admitted, wiping his forehead. “Cash deal. Closing was scheduled for two days from now.”
Two days.
If I hadn’t seen the tracks. If I had shoveled the snow. If I had been the wife Vernon expected—obedient, tired, compliant—the appraisal would have happened continue reading …
