Chapter 12

“My mom sent them over. Her note said she bought them from ‘some little girl dressed all in pink.’”

“Hmm.” He had to swallow before he went on. His shirt was still unbuttoned halfway down and I watched the motion of it. “My Missy wore pink all the time. Nothing but pink and Tigger. I miss my family so much on holidays.”

“I’m sorry.” Two words were a struggle as a memory flashed. I looked out the window while leaning against the wall I suddenly needed for support. The lights flickered—on the street and in the room. Everything had gone off a second except one of the Christmas angels still attached to the electric pole. “Sawyer…”

“Thanks, Bart. You’re always so compassionate. I should go, though, I guess, so you can hop next door.”