arter w

dry, shallow sound

ly twenty-five years, sat by his

or my hand,

oice a ghost. "Brittany... h

for years in this timeline,

e. Ne

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d been a p

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a dangerous, forbidden thought, "I

dark

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sitting bo

gh stained-glass window

ing dress. Whit

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could

father, Mr. Hayes, looked stern in the front pew. My stepm

handsome, stood at t

phone buzz

d it, his

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t even l

d crowd. "I... I have t

he

eaving me at the alt

, something w

s. No d

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