Sloane’s sobs were soaking his shirt. Lester wanted to cry, too, but couldn’t manage it. The start of tears which had appeared in the corners of his eyes were gone now.

Since her death — or not-death, as it were — he had been unable to cry in front of people. He kept his arms around her, inhaling slow breaths, grounding himself in this moment — she remembered. He would not let her forget this time.

”You got caught in a storm,” he answered, ”And then — Miss Sadie Sinclair came to town a few months later.”

Had Miss Sinclair ever been real? What had led the Sinclairs to claim Sloane as their own? Lester’s arms around her tightened.