“Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t seen the spare room’s wallpaper.”
She looked genuinely alarmed.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing. If you enjoy patterns designed by someone having a nervous breakdown in 1974.”
For the first time that night, Sarah laughed properly.
And I discovered something dangerous.
I wanted to hear that laugh again.
I had absolutely no idea how much trouble that little discovery was going to cause.
The Woman Who Refused to Be a Victim
The next morning, I found Sarah sitting at the kitchen table with a notebook, three folders, and a list of phone numbers.
She had already been awake for an hour.
I stood in the doorway holding two cups of coffee.
“Good morning.”
She looked up. “Good morning.”
“Did you sleep?”
“Some.”
“That’s a very diplomatic answer.”
“I’m a very diplomatic person.”
“Sarah, you once told a restaurant manager that his soup tasted like wet cardboard.”
