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386 pages, Kindle Edition
First published March 10, 2015



“That’s to be expected, poupée,” Michelene cooed. “It’s very troubling to see one’s name on a grave. To then know that someone was . . . left life too early. Well”— she snapped her fingers—“ that would cause ill rest for anyone.”
“No,” she agreed. “But I wanted to be different. And my family owns land upon which the sheep meander.”
Oh, the mists! I decried the fact that they were back and I couldn’t see the woman more clearly. Her dress was dark, and expensively cut.
I had, perhaps in pride, set aside the last chance for us to talk at length; he had, perhaps in pride, set aside his last gift to me without leaving a note. He had been cool to me, and I to him. I do not know whether to pray to see him at the ball or not. So I ask only Your will be done.
I finally decided to return her quote with one of my own, from Saint Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians. “ ‘I say therefore to the unmarried and widows, it is good for them if they abide even as I.’” “Are ye instructing me, now?”