Having the Keys Doesn’t Mean You Own It
“Does our new house have a garden?” Lucia asked, taking my hand.
“A very big one.”
“With flowers?”
“Lots of them.”
She beamed up at me, and that small ordinary smile was worth more than every penthouse and fleet vehicle and family name on the entire earth.
Chapter 13 — Whose Name Is It In
As we walked toward the gate, my phone started.
Bryce, calling.