My Granddaughter Asked Me to Stop Sending Her Father Money and to Follow Him

That was the point.”

Walsh’s jaw tightened.

I already knew whose voice I was hearing. I had known before my mind admitted it. I had known in my hands and my chest and the part of me that had refused for seven years to fully believe the brass urn was what they told me it was.

“I want to see Ivy,” Willow said.

Brad laughed.

I lunged forward and Walsh caught continue reading …