PREVIEW

... hing the windows of Lindsay's house like a shy hand.

Margo awoke to a quilt that smelled lavender and books. The light drew over the lines of her face, sleepy and gentle, and the quietness of the house settled against the weight of her chest—not firm, not unkind. Just. full.

No voices, no laughter, no footsteps. Only the hiss of the heater, such an old man clearing his throat.

She sat up in bed. Socks were propped against the floor. The corridor smelled of cinnamon, and i ...

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