The phone on my nightstand emitted a shrill ring, and I swore under my breath while fumbling to answer it. For the fourth time this week, I'd been woken by someone calling just before midnight. As I now sat up in bed, holding the phone to my ear, I wanted to let out a string of curses. But I told myself it might be a friend or family member alerting me to an emergency of some kind. "Hello!" I barked in greeting, my voice...

As I approached the sprawling estate, my grip on the steering wheel tightened until my fingertips grew numb. Under my breath, I cursed my father for sending me to do his dirty work. I couldn't stop glancing at the passenger seat, where a plain manila envelope, stuffed full, was hidden under one of my jackets. "Take this to him," Dad had told me earlier that afternoon. "He'll know what it's for." I started to shake my head...

My father sat at the head of the dining room table, just as he did during every Thanksgiving meal we'd ever shared. But while I took my usual seat to his left, his new wife, Evelyn, now sat to his right. On the other side of Evelyn was her father, Gabe. "This table," Dad said, "always seemed too big for just me and Opal." Smiling at me, he reached to pat my hand. He'd never been one for physical affection until he met Eve...