And for the first time in my life, I wondered if I knew her at all.
I looked down at my phone, lying on the towel between us.
“Paige,” I said slowly. “Does this have anything to do with Russell?”
She closed her eyes.
That was all the answer I needed.
CHAPTER 2: RUSSELL’S PHONE
She wouldn’t say anything else. Not on the beach. Not at dinner, which neither of us ate. Not when I stood in the doorway of her room at the rental cottage and begged.
“Tomorrow,” was all she would say. “I promise. Tomorrow.”
I lay awake in the dark, listening to the waves.
Little things started coming back to me. Things I’d never thought twice about.
Paige at Russell’s funeral, crying harder than anyone except me. Gripping the edge of the casket so tightly the funeral director had to gently pry her hands loose.
Paige knowing, without asking, that Russ took his coffee with two sugars and a splash of cream.
