For a moment my mind simply refused it.

I had spent three days and a frantic drive across the city constructing one single scene — a lover, a betrayal, a confrontation — and I had walked into a room that had no place in that story at all, and the gap between what I had braced for and what was in front of me was so wide that I stood there stupidly in the doorway, fists still raised at nothing, unable to make the two realities meet.

Chapter 14 — Breathe With Me

Sitting cross-legged on the rug beside her was an older woman with silver hair in a neat twist and a soft cardigan.

She was not alarmed.

One hand rested on Bethany’s shoulder; the other tapped a slow, steady rhythm on the floor.