That was my mother’s favorite kind of fix. Neat, quiet, and no room for anyone to ask questions.
“I’m trying,” I said.
“Try harder. Nolan is already standing at the altar.”
I looked down the hall.
“Fix this quietly, Sophie.”
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That was my mother’s favorite kind of fix. Neat, quiet, and no room for anyone to ask questions.
“I’m trying,” I said.
“Try harder. Nolan is already standing at the altar.”
I looked down the hall.
“Fix this quietly, Sophie.”
Boston welcomed us beneath a low, November sky, the city shrouded in cold rain and fading afternoon light. Water traced crooked paths down the…