“The room was dark and chilly. She pulled the covers up to her chin and stared at the ceiling. She didn’t even want to know what time it was, how many hours she’d been lying awake. She was still a bit reluctant to shut her eyes, worried that the images of the devastation on the coffeehouse patio that had plagued her all week would return. For nights, all she had dreamed about were the blood-spattered pebbles, the broken furniture, the nicks from the bullets freckling the walls and doors, the cus...tomers injured and scared. Not one of them would ever pass through those gates again. And, if Candace was right, neither might she. On top of it all, Candace would be leaving in the morning. Sunny was so tempted to go as well, to just hop on that ferry as it chugged away from the shore and kiss this place goodbye. So what was stopping her? What, really, did this island hold for her? She took a silent inventory: a half of a house she didn’t really want. A half of a crumbling barn, a half of an old shed, a half of a ton of grapes that would turn into a barrel of wine that, in all probability, nobody in their right mind would want to drink.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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