They had thought themselves untouchable together.

They would each go down alone, blaming the others, which was, I understood, exactly what they deserved and exactly what they had always been.

Chapter 20 — Savannah

Three months later, the morning sun came through the tall windows of our new house outside Savannah, and the air smelled of salt and pine and coffee.

Amara stood on the back porch with a warm mug in both hands.

The marks were gone from her face; the fear was gone from her eyes, and what had replaced it was something steady.