Grief had taken everything from me.

And in taking everything, it had also, without meaning to, taken my fear.

Chapter 16 — The Sheriff

Twenty minutes later, two marked sheriff’s cruisers pulled into my driveway behind Phoebe’s sedan, and a uniformed deputy walked up my porch steps and knocked, firmly, on the front door of my house.

Julian opened it in a polo shirt and jeans, a man relaxing in a home he had stolen.

When he saw me standing beside the deputy, his brows drew down in irritation, as though I were an inconvenience interrupting his afternoon.