They Mocked My “Failed” Career At Easter—Then Walked Into My New Home

uneven, which is to say perfect.

By one-thirty, the house smelled like sugar and citrus. Sunlight poured through the living room glass and painted the floor in honey-colored rectangles.

Meredith texted: OMW. What’s the address again?

I sent it. A beat later: West Hills? That’s a nice area. Are you housesitting? Lol

I put the phone down without answering continue reading …