“A nearly blinding pain knifed from his left eyebrow into his temple, and as he struggled to focus he was filled with a terrible sense of dread. When his eyes had adjusted, he realized that he was abed in his childhood sleeping nook, a rectangular space with rough plank walls that was barely large enough to hold a cot, battered dresser, and small wardrobe. Strange. He’d been married five years ago and hadn’t stayed overnight at his folks’ place since. But there was no mistake. The familiar scent... of his mother’s Irish stew drifted in from the kitchen to tease his nostrils, the air redolent with pan-browned lamb chops simmered to perfection, and the unmistakable fragrance of thyme, a spice his wife, Olivia, seldom used. Matthew yearned to slip back into the darkness of sleep that had so recently enveloped him, but that niggling sense of dread grew stronger as he came more awake. Something was wrong, horribly wrong, but his head hurt so badly that he couldn’t remember what. “Ma?”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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