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she loved Bo and lived with the frustration of things hoped for, but not yet seen.
    “I think that’s what I called to hear.”
    “No fair. Say you miss me too.”
    “My phone call should tell you that.”
    “It does, but I like it when you say it.”
    In his modest, prefab home by the lake, Bo leaned back into the pocket of his old flannel sofa. He kicked his wool-sock-adorned feet up onto the coffee table in front of him. His black dog, Bear, raised his head at the commotion, then rested it back down to sleep by the fire.
    “I wish I was there right now,” Bo said. He glanced at his silver wristwatch. He wouldn’t need much prompting to put his work boots back on and make the twenty-minute drive out to Christina’s.
    “I wish you were too. It’s probably best if we don’t though.”
    The love between Bo and Christina was obvious; so was the reason they weren’t together that night, and every other night.
    “Not trying to start a fire, sweetheart. I just called to say I love you.”
    “Thanks, Stevie Wonder. You’re the best.”
    They laughed. She was certain they’d be together one day. One day the good man she’d fallen in love with would wake up brand new, ready to commit again. And she’d be there for him. Until the end of time.
    “No, you’re the best,” Bo told her. “We both know that. I just want to be the man who gets close to the best. That’s enough for an old dog like me.”
    “That seems a reasonable enough request,” Christina whispered to Bo in a voice just for the two of them. “I’ll grant it.”

~ Four ~
    I don’t know what I want, so don’t ask me
’Cause I’m still trying to figure it out.
    —T AYLOR S WIFT
    “A Place in This World”
    Emma woke to a pure and simple sunrise. Normally, it would still be dark when she arose to the sounds of traffic on Boston’s busy streets. Her father’s house, on the contrary, felt as peaceful and quiet as an early-morning Sunday chapel. The dawning of the new day brought with it the promise of a fresh start. The Interscope trial that had devoured Emma’s energy for months was finally over, buried in the past a thousand miles away. Her father would be coming home soon.
    After a long shower, Emma propped her suitcase on the bed and snapped open the latches. There had been time to grab only the essentials—a three-day survival kit. She unpacked jeans and tops, two warm sweaters in case of cold weather, a comfortable pair of loafers because they went with everything, and a black turtleneck just in case … she wasn’t exactly sure why she’d packed that. She dressed in a pair of jeans and a sleeveless shirt and headed downstairs.
    The boards in the old hardwood floors creaked when Emma walked down the hallway to the kitchen. “Old houses,” she said aloud, both comforted and cautious by the thought that some things never change. In the sun-kissed kitchen, light overflowed in a room filled with windows. On the tile counter she found a full pot of cold coffee, minus one cup, sitting in the coffeemaker next to the toaster. Emma took the coffee pot out and poured the dark roast down the drain in the sink, frightening evidence of the attack that almost took him.
    She’s the one that found him, you know.
    Will kept his food on a stainless steel pantry rack in the laundry room. Emma found a large blue can of Maxwell House on the center shelf and took stock of the food, hoping to find bagels. Will’s pantry wasn’t all that different from her own––bare except for a few essentials. Single people only stock what they need. Emma carried the coffee into the kitchen and brewed a fresh pot.
    A silver Dodge Caravan pulled onto the horseshoe drive and parked beside the cluster of three weeping willow trees. Samantha opened her car door and stepped out into the cool morning sunlight. She’d already redone her lipstick and makeup inside the van. On the driveway, she tugged the creases from her clothing and walked to the side door that lead