“Don’t move away,” he said.

“Why shouldn’t I?” she countered.

“Because you belong here, at least for the summer.”

And at the end of the summer? Maybe by then it would be too late to escape unscathed. Maybe it’d be too late for them both. “I don’t belong anywhere. Definitely don’t bring the boys, because I’m leaving,” she said and hung up.

He was too stubborn. She had to leave Stillwater, she realized. The sooner the better.

Hurrying into the house, she dragged her suitcases out of the spare bedroom and began to pack.

After Grace disconnected, Kennedy paced the carpet of the parlor. He didn’t know many houses that had a parlor these days, but his house was older than most, and that was what his wife had called this room. Here sat her grand piano, her music stand, her nicest furniture. Since she died, no one ever really came in here. Only Kennedy and occasionally Heath and Teddy—when they wanted to feel close to her.

Tonight, however, Kennedy couldn’t feel any type of connection with Raelynn. He was too anxious. Had Grace been serious about leaving town? Surely not. He’d heard, from a variety of sources, that she had a three-month lease on the house.

If she did move, where would she go? Back to Jackson? Back to the man she’d planned to marry?

Kennedy didn’t like that idea. He disliked it enough that he was tempted to jump into his SUV and drive over to her place, do what he could to convince her to stay. But he couldn’t leave the boys alone, and it was too late to get a babysitter.

After several more passes across the parlor, he finally picked up the phone. The only thing he could think of was to call his mother for help. He knew she wouldn’t like it, but she was the one person who, regardless of what happened in the world, had always been there for him.

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The following morning, Grace tucked the hair falling out of her ponytail behind her ears, put on some water for tea and resumed packing. She’d fallen asleep not long after starting last night, and woken up late. But she didn’t have that much stuff. She could finish in one day and head out tonight.

She’d have to leave behind a key and hire movers to deal with the furniture, though. George’s support now belonged to someone else.

She thought of Madeline and knew she should call her. She should call Irene and Clay, too. They’d be willing to help. But she didn’t know what to say to them. They wouldn’t be happy about her leaving.

With a sigh, she sat on the floor, crossed her legs and leaned back on her palms. She’d felt she was finally beginning to heal. And now this…

The kettle whistled. Standing, she walked around the boxes she’d brought from the garage. Evonne had always enjoyed chamomile tea. Although it was already far too hot for anything served without ice cubes, Grace saw this cup as a final toast to her old friend.

Before she could pour the hot water, however, a knock sounded at the door.

“Grace?”

Hearing Teddy’s voice, she cursed under her breath. What was Kennedy thinking? She’d told him she couldn’t babysit. He was crazy for asking her in the first place.

But she was eager to see the boys one more time, to have the chance to say goodbye.

Hurrying through the living room, she threw open the door—and her smile froze on her face. The boys weren’t alone. Camille Archer stood on the porch with them.

“There you are!” Teddy threw his arms around her waist.

Grace wasn’t sure how to respond to his enthusiasm. She rubbed his back but felt acutely self-conscious beneath the hawklike gaze of Kennedy’s mother.

“Hello,” she said to Teddy and Heath before meeting Camille’s pointed stare. “What can I do for you?”

Camille didn’t answer right away. She was too busy scrutinizing every detail of Grace’s appearance. Grace might’ve said something about how rude it was to stare, but there were the boys to consider. She didn’t want to end up in a yelling match with their grandmother.

In the awkward silence, Heath inched close enough to get his own hug. Grace patted his back but didn’t squeeze him as tightly as she ordinarily would have. She wanted to downplay these gestures of affection as much as possible, because she could tell that Camille was taking careful note.

When Camille finally spoke, she didn’t bother with a greeting. “I hear you’re moving.”

Grace glanced over her shoulder at the boxes strewn about. “Yes. I have to return to Jackson.”

“No!” Teddy cried.

Heath’s shoulders drooped. “So soon?”

“Why now?” Camille asked. “Why are you doing it so suddenly?”

Grace didn’t blink. “Because I need to go.”

“Is it because you run at the first sign of a fight?”

Grace scowled. “Living here has always been a fight,” she said. “I wouldn’t have come back if I was afraid of the people here. I’m leaving for other reasons.”

“Which are…“

“Frankly, none of your business.”

Camille obviously didn’t like her answer. Pressing her lips into a tight, colorless line, she folded her arms.

Meanwhile, Grace checked the street to see who might be watching them, and noticed Camille’s cream-colored Cadillac sitting right out front. “You might want to move your car,” she said.

Camille tilted her head at a jaunty angle. “Something wrong with the way I parked?”

Grace raised her eyebrows. “It’s a very distinctive vehicle and, unless your goal is to antagonize the Vincellis, I suggest—”

“I don’t give a damn about the Vincellis,” Camille interrupted, waving an imperious hand.

That explained it. The Archers and the Vincellis were squaring off, starting a feud. But Grace didn’t want Camille’s pride to put Kennedy at even more risk. “I think we’d better go inside.”

Camille might have argued, but Grace didn’t give her the chance. She turned and walked in so that Camille, if she still wanted to talk, had to follow.

Kennedy’s mother took her sweet time, but eventually stepped across the threshold and allowed Grace to close the door.

“So why are you here?” Grace asked, hoping to get to the reason for Camille’s visit as soon as possible. Kennedy’s mother couldn’t have come to ask her to leave; Grace was already doing that. “It won’t take me more than a day to get out of town,” she explained, just in case.

“I want to know if you’re leaving because of my son.”




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