“Mrs. Sinclair said to me, after blowing her nose and wiping her eyes. “This is not an easy story to tell.” She grasped my hand and squeezed it on her way back to her chair. She sunk into it and crossed her legs, and took a deep breath. “But I must tell it,” she went on. “I owe that to you. And to Audra. It is her story, too.” “Who is Audra, Mrs. Sinclair?” I asked as gently as I could. Saying her name out loud caused that same chill to run through me. My head was beginning to pound. She turned ...her eyes to her son. “Audra is my daughter,” Adrian said, swirling the ice in his Scotch, his eyes brimming with tears. “Was. She was my daughter.” I gasped. He had never once spoken of a daughter. He and his mother held each other’s gaze across the room. Drew was looking out the window into the darkness, sipping on his drink. Nobody was saying anything, as the fire crackled and snapped. “What happened to her?” I finally asked, knowing for certain I wouldn’t like the answer.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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