She flicked the wheel of a yellow disposable lighter, held the flame to the tip of her cigarette, and blew a long gray trail of smoke straight toward the brass light fixtures above the island.

I pulled the front of my dark blue wool cardigan tight around my ribs and stepped through the doorway.

The sweater was thick and warm, knitted from dark blue wool with five smooth horn buttons down the front, a gift Mark had bought me at the mall downtown three years ago, before his new promotion changed how he spoke to me.

“Sloan, would you please take that outside to the back patio?” I asked, keeping my voice down.