Review: The Overnight Guest by Heather Gudenkauf

The Overnight Guest by Heather Gudenkauf

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Published: January 2022

 

Wylie Lark is a true crime author who has taken some time away from her home in Oregon to do some writing in Iowa where her next story takes place. She rents an old farm house where the murders took place to do the writing. One night during a terrible snow storm she finds a child in the snow and a wrecked truck in the ditch. Where is this child's family and why are there out in the cold all alone. This story is told in three different parts. Wylie's story of the farm house. The story of the murders that happened in the farmhouse. And the story of a mother and a child. How are all of these things connected? A story that will keep you on the edge of your seat from start to finish.

Thank you to Park Row Books and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review this book.

I have read a few Heather Gudenkauf books in the past and each one has left me with my mouth agape. This one was no different. I had to find out what was going to happen. There is shock after shock in this story. Horrific incidents that take place that you can never imagine. I couldn't wait to find out what was going to happen in this book. It's been a while since I've read a book I want to keep coming back to. This has definitely helped me to come out of my slump. While some things may have been predictable there were enough surprises to keep me going.  

I highly recommend this book!!

EXCERPT

Three

“Maybe we can go outside and play?” the girl said as she peeked around the edge of the heavy curtain that covered the window. The sky was gray and soft drops of rain tapped at the glass.

“Not today,” her mother said. “It’s raining and we’d melt.”

The girl gave a little laugh and then hopped off the chair she had dragged beneath the window. She knew her mother was teasing. They wouldn’t actually melt if they went out in the rain, but still, it made her shiver thinking about it—stepping outside and feeling the plop of water on your skin and watching it melt away like an ice cube.

Instead, the girl and her mother spent the morning at the card table cutting pink, purple, and green egg shapes from construction paper and embellishing them with polka dots and stripes.

On one oval, her mother drew eyes and a pointy little orange beak. Her mother laid the girl’s hands on a piece of yellow paper and traced around them using a pencil. “Watch,” she said as she cut out the handprints and then glued them to the back of one of the ovals.

“It’s a bird,” the girl said with delight.

“An Easter chick,” her mother said. “I made these when I was your age.”

Together, they carefully taped the eggs and chicks and bunny rab-bits they created to the cement walls, giving the dim room a festive, springy look. “There, now we’re ready for the Easter Bunny,” her mother said with triumph.

That night, when the girl climbed into bed, the butterflies in her stomach kept chasing sleep away. “Stay still,” her mother kept re-minding her. “You’ll fall asleep faster.”

The girl didn’t think that was true, but then she opened her eyes, a sliver of bright sunshine was peeking around the shade, and the girl knew that morning had finally arrived.

She leaped from bed to find her mother already at the tiny round table where they ate their meals. “Did he come?” the girl asked, tucking her long brown hair behind her ears.

“Of course he did,” her mother said, holding out a basket woven together from strips of colored paper. It was small, fitting into the palm of the girl’s hand, but sweet. Inside were little bits of green paper that were cut to look like grass. On top of this was a pack of cinnamon gum and two watermelon Jolly Ranchers.

The girl smiled though disappointment surged through her. She’d been hoping for a chocolate bunny or one of those candy eggs that oozed yellow when you broke it open.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Thank the Easter Bunny,” her mother said.

“Thank you, Easter Bunny,” the girl crowed like the child on the candy commercials that she’d seen on television. They both laughed.

They each unwrapped a piece of gum and spent the morning making up stories about the paper chicks and bunnies they made.

When the girl’s gum lost its flavor, and she had slowly licked one of the Jolly Ranchers into a sharp flat disc, the door at the top of the steps opened, and her father came down the stairs toward them. He was carrying a plastic bag and a six-pack of beer. Her mother gave the girl a look. The one that said, go on now, mom and dad need some alone time. Obediently, the girl, taking her Easter basket, went to her spot beneath the window and sat in the narrow beam of warm light that fell across the floor. Facing the wall, she unwrapped another piece of gum and poked it into her mouth and tried to ignore the squeak of the bed and her father’s sighs and grunts.

“You can turn around now,” her mother finally said. The girl sprang up from her spot on the floor.

The girl heard the water running in the bathroom, and her father poked his head out of the door. “Happy Easter,” he said with a grin. “The Easter Bunny wanted me to give you a little something.”

The girl looked at the kitchen table where the plastic bag sat. Then she slid her eyes to her mother, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing her wrist, eyes red and wet. Her mother nodded.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

Later, after her father climbed the steps and locked the door behind him, the girl went to the table and looked inside the plastic bag. In-side was a chocolate bunny with staring blue eyes. He was holding a carrot and wore a yellow bowtie.

“Go ahead,” her mother told the girl as she held an ice pack to her wrist. “When I was little, I always started with the ears.”

“I don’t think I’m very hungry,” the girl said, returning the box to the table.

“It’s okay,” her mother said gently. “You can eat it. It’s from the Easter Bunny, not your dad.”

The girl considered this. She took a little nibble from the bunny’s ear and sweet chocolate flooded her mouth. She took another bite and then another. She held out the rabbit to her mother and she bit off the remaining ear in one big bite. They laughed and took turns eating until all that was left was the bunny’s chocolate tail.

“Close your eyes and open your mouth,” her mother said. The girl complied and felt her mother place the remaining bit on her tongue and then kiss her on the nose. “Happy Easter,” her mother whispered.

Excerpted from The Overnight Guest by Heather Gudenkauf, Copyright © 2022 by Heather Gudenkauf. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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Review: The Ex-Husband by Karen Hamilton

The Ex-Husband by Karen Hamilton  

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

Published: Jan. 2022

Charlotte and Sam met on a cruise ship where they were working and they were instantly drawn to each other. Sam had that effect on people. Soon he had Charlotte wrapped around his finger and brought into his world of a con artist. At first, Charlotte enjoyed the thrill, but soon she grew tired and was ready to settle down for something different. Sam, didn't have the same idea and they went their separate ways. 18 months later, Charlotte gets desperate messages from Sam that she's not sure how to interpret and then he disappears. Then she herself receives threatening messages. What is she to do, who is sending the messages? She continues on with her life, taking a job on a superyacht. Here the threats continue. Who on board is threatening her and will she be able to get away before it's too late? The story jumps from when Sam and Charlotte are together and the cons they pulled to the present when Charlotte is trying to find out who is behind the threats and what has happened to Sam.

Thank you to Harlequin and NetGalley for the opportunity to read and review this book.

 At first, this book was a little challenging to get into. I struggled to keep track of all the different characters that were introduced it seemed at the same time. A lot of supporting cast. Once I got into the story, it was easier to follow along and figure out what is happening. I really liked Charlotte. She was a good bad person. Even though she did some bad things in her life, deep down she had a kind heart and never wanted to truly hurt anyone. I was scared for her and didn't want anything bad to happen to her. The ending definitely had me on the edge of my seat determined to find out what was going to happen next.

I gave the book three stars because of the difficulties at the beginning. Overall it was a pretty good book.

EXCERPT

THEN

Eighteen Months Ago

Barbados

A TIP-OFF. THAT COULD BE THE ONLY EXPLANATION.

Dreaded realization filtered through the rows of passengers and crew in the cruise terminal via mutters about delays intermingled with curiosity and general resignation at the inevitable holdup. Sickening dread roiled deep in my gut. Surreptitiously, I glanced back at the queue snaking behind me. Still no sign of Sam. Where was he?

The person in front of me took a step forward, pushing his backpack with a foot. Reluctantly, I followed.

Sam had only darted back to the ship to pick up his watch, carelessly left beside the basin in his cabin. It should have taken him fifteen minutes—twenty max. He had insisted that I save our place in the line to save time. Our flight to freedom was less than four hours away.

I messaged him.

Where the hell are you? Hurry up! I am nearly at the front of the line.

Well, not quite, but it was true enough. 

No reply.

Indecision kept me rooted to the spot. Sam would be annoyed if I lost our place. It would break one of our rules about blending in. Then again, neither of us was thinking straight. Our nerves were frayed. We were both tense after a wakeful night dissecting what had gone wrong, each of us blaming the other. But he left me with no choice. We always disembarked together. We had each other’s backs. Rule number one.

I tried to calm my fears. The upheaval wasn’t necessarily anything to do with us. I was too quick to jump to worst-case scenarios, usually after my conscience had given me a good poke. Sam and I excelled at slipping beneath the radar, despite his popularity.

In the corner of the vast, high-ceilinged building, portable air-conditioning units blasted out woefully inadequate cool air. My heart pounded so hard it almost hurt. Sweat slid down my spine. I stepped out of line and walked back in the direction of the ship. James, head of the ship’s security team, was standing by the exit. Relief. He would know where Sam was.

Strangely, James didn’t acknowledge or return my greeting. His manner was uncharacteristically off. No, he said. I couldn’t go back on board.

“But Sam should have been back by now,” I said. “He only went for something he’d forgotten.”

James shrugged.

“Just wait for him in line. He’ll show up. There’s nowhere else for him to go. This is the only exit.”

“What’s going on?” I said, trying to cajole James into thawing his attitude.

I opted for a friendly, neutral tone. And why not? We were colleagues, after all. Friends, companions. Equals, really.

“There are searches, from time to time.”

“Not that I’ve ever seen,” I said. “I hope it doesn’t hold us up. What is it? Drugs? Weapons?”

I smiled, safe in the knowledge that I was carrying neither.

“Get back in the line,” said James. “Wait for Sam there.”

I had no choice. As I turned, I saw Sam up ahead. He must have joined a different line. His bag was already being searched. How the hell had we missed each other? Why hadn’t he called me? Why did he go through without me?

There was nothing I could do but rejoin the queue and watch. I couldn’t read the expression of the person searching his bag, but the body language appeared at ease. Jolly, even. Everything felt off, badly wrong. Fragments of our heated conversation last night started piecing together. Just wait until I get hold of Sam, I thought. I would kill him for breaking our rules and putting me through all this extra stress.

I watched as Sam exited into the outside world. I could imagine the sun brushing his face as he inhaled the warmth of the Caribbean air. I distracted myself by dissecting the type of people they were pulling over. Lone travelers. Fresh, bubbling red rage at Sam rose. I called him. Straight to voice mail.

I was now among the stragglers, recognizing some of the faces. God, this was torture. I fought the urge to push to the front, explain about Sam and ask to be whisked through so that I could catch up with him, find out what the hell he was playing at. Breathe, breathe, breathe, I repeated over and over in my mind. I can do this. It’s all about playing the game.

A calmness descended over me as I was beckoned forward. One step after another, a neutral expression on my face. I could see the sun through the glass doors. No sign of Sam in the crowds beyond. I focused on the large brandy or whiskey I was going to order on the flight. I thought about the type of movie I would watch, a comedy or something light and easy to absorb. Or maybe I wouldn’t bother with any distractions at all. I could use the time to think.

Half a yard, then another. The man in front was pulled over to my right, with a brusque wave. A harmless-looking elderly couple was also summoned. Not me. Not yet. I was so nearly there. Please, God. I know I’ve made mistakes. I know I’ve made bad choices, but just let me keep walking and I will make amends.

“Miss?”

Shit.

“Yes?”

“Can you come over this way, please, and place your bags on the table?”

I smiled. “Yes, of course.”

Everything turned numb, as though this was happening to someone else. Invincibility was Sam’s superpower, not mine.

Victimless. That is what Sam and I had always said about the people we befriended. Relax, I told myself. They won’t find anything. I’d triple-checked, hadn’t I?

My bag felt unusually heavy as I lifted it up. It was still covered in hotel, airline and cruise stickers. Funny, the inconsequential things I focused on. Sam often told me to scrape them off. “Bland and anonymous is always best. The smallest of details can offer up rich clues to the wrong people.” He would know.

“Open your bags, please.”

“Sure.”

My mouth was dry. I rotated the combination on my lock: one, eight, eight, my birth date and month, a small act of rebellion when it came to Sam’s insistence never to do the obvious. It clicked open. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to lift the lid, to display my personal belongings ready for public inspection. It was humiliating.

The officer lost patience and did it for me. Time slowed as he unzipped the bag. Nestling on top of my favorite red blouse was something that, although familiar, didn’t belong to me.

Blind panic.

“That’s not mine.” I reached to grab it, to remove the emerald necklace from its nest among my possessions. Someone had put it there.

“Stand back, please.”

I felt the fresh horror rise inside me as two other customs officers walked over and peered at the necklace.

“I said it’s not mine. Someone has been in my bag.”

Stony faces, bland expressions, dismissive words.

I tried again.

“You need to go through the CCTV, check who entered our cabin. Someone planted this.”

I looked from face to face.

Still nothing.

I should’ve kept quiet. They’d already decided that I was guilty. A thief. Someone without rights.

Anger replaced fear as my privacy was violated. My swimwear, toiletries, underwear, shoes, travel guides, my Spanish-language course books, my costume jewelry, my every-bloody-thing was removed and examined by careless rubber-gloved hands.

A glimmer of hope ignited when their search concluded. All they had found was something that was such an obvious plant. The necklace rested on the side of the counter, taunting me. Not for the first time either. Magpie-like, the moment I had first spotted the emerald-and-diamond choker with a teardrop pendant, I longed to own it. Green was most definitely the color of envy.

“Come with us, please.”

I was shown to an interview room. I could hear a baby crying outside. Alone, without my belongings, I had time to piece things together. Grim reality, like a blast of icy water. I had been sacrificed, thrown under the bus. Sam knew. He’d been tipped off. Instead of saving the two of us, he’d chosen to save himself. “For better, for worse” clearly no longer applied. It was a final act of cruelty. A brutal end, regardless of how rocky our marriage had been. All that mattered was himself.

       Time spooled and distorted. I sat, trying to appear nonchalant, yet as outraged as an innocent could be, robbed of her freedom. I felt watched. The heat stifled me. I wanted to plunge into a cold pool, swim below the surface, somehow wash away the dirty feelings that threatened to swallow me whole.

Anger took over as I sat there. I wasn’t taking the rap—no way. As two police officers walked into the room, I was prepared to embrace my inner canary. Whatever it took. But it became clear I wouldn’t need to sing that day.

I was free to go. It had all been a terrible mistake. Huge apologies. Strange, but true. My belongings—even the necklace—were returned.

Outside, despite the heat of the midday sun, I wanted to run. I had got away with it. I was free. Except… I wasn’t.

I didn’t like the person I had become—hadn’t for a long time. Something needed to change. Sam’s customary reassurances that “all would be well” had been my elixir. It smoothed away fears and doubts, the ones my conscience tried in vain to shove to the forefront of my mind during the darkest hours. The sudden and horrible unraveling of our gilded situation was the result of arrogance. His and mine.

But for now, I had to put myself first. I walked toward the shade and sat on a bench beneath a palm tree. I had less than two hours to catch my flight, but I could still make it. I sent Sam a message.

Call me. ASAP.

Nothing.

I hailed a cab to take me from the cruise terminal to the airport, deciding to make one detour to a friend’s house en route. I wanted to hide my pot of gold somewhere safe.

As we drew into the airport, fear took hold again. What if I was making a mistake? In a daze, I checked in. The airline staff wouldn’t tell me if Sam had checked in too. I called him again even though I knew, deep down, that there wouldn’t be an answer. As I placed my bag down to go through the X-ray machine, I heard my phone beep. I had to wait more painful minutes while my bag passed through the checks before I could snatch up my phone and read it. Sam!

One word.

Sorry.

What the hell was he doing?

Sam’s empty plane seat taunted me all the way to London as I planned the things I was going to say and do when I next saw him. Because I would see him again. He wasn’t the only piece of unfinished business, because there was someone else I needed to track down too. The real owner of the necklace and the catalyst behind our downfall and the death of our marriage. 

Excerpted from The Ex-Husband by Karen Hamilton, Copyright © 2022 by Karen Hamilton. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

View all my reviews

To learn more about this book or to order a copy, click the links below(affiliate links):

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Review: The Sorority Murder by Allison Brennan

The Sorority Murder by Allison Brennan

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Published: Dec. 2021

Lucas Vega is determined to figure out what happened with Candace Swain. She was murdered when he was a freshman at NAU and now is he doing his senior capstone as a podcast to find out what really happened to her. She was missing a week before her body was found. Even though she was found in the lake, her lungs were filled with chlorinated water. Where was she during that week? Did anyone see her? He's enlisted the help of formal US Marshal Regan Merritt and together they are working hard to solve this cold case. He's been trying to hear from her sorority sisters in Sigma Rho, but they have been silenced. Will he find the answers he is looking for?

Thank you to NetGalley and Harlequin Trade Publishing for the opportunity to read and review this title.


This book kept me on the edge of my seat from start to finish. I was invested in the story and I wanted to know what happened to Candace. The deeper he dug, the more people that ended up dying or getting hurt. Where was Candace during the week she was missing? What was tearing her up inside that she felt so guilty about? There are a million questions that had to be answered and roadblocks around every turn. While there was a slight twist to the story, I could see it coming. It didn't take away from the story at all.

There was a quote in the book, that I really loved, "'God made us stewards of the earth, which means more than taking care of what's yours. Give more than you expect to receive, and be thankful for every day you draw breath ...'" This really touched me because we never know what is going on in someone else's life. Tomorrow is never promised and we have to be thankful for each day that we are given a chance to be alive.

This is a book I will recommend to others.

EXCERPT:

One‌ ‌

Three‌ ‌Years‌ ‌Ago‌ ‌

Friday,‌ ‌April‌ ‌10‌ ‌

 ‌

 ‌

 ‌Candace‌ ‌Swain‌ ‌forced‌ ‌a‌ ‌smile‌ ‌as‌ ‌she‌ ‌walked‌ ‌out‌ ‌of‌ ‌her‌ ‌dorm‌ ‌room.‌ ‌

Smiling‌ ‌was‌ ‌the‌ ‌last‌ ‌thing‌ ‌she‌ ‌wanted‌ ‌to‌ ‌do,‌ ‌but‌ ‌Candace‌ ‌had‌ ‌an‌ ‌image‌ ‌to‌ ‌uphold.‌ ‌

She‌ ‌was‌ ‌going‌ ‌to‌ ‌be‌ ‌late‌ ‌for‌ ‌the‌ ‌Sigma‌ ‌Rho‌ ‌Spring‌ ‌Fling—the‌ ‌last‌ ‌big‌ ‌party‌ ‌before‌ ‌the‌ ‌

end-of-year‌ ‌crunch.‌ ‌Studying‌ ‌for‌ ‌finals,‌ ‌capstones‌ ‌and‌ ‌senior‌ ‌projects,‌ ‌stress‌ ‌and‌ ‌more‌ ‌stress,‌ ‌and—for‌ ‌

some‌ ‌of‌ ‌them—graduation.‌ ‌

The‌ ‌mild‌ ‌April‌ ‌weather‌ ‌was‌ ‌perfect‌ ‌for‌ ‌an‌ ‌outdoor‌ ‌gathering.‌ ‌Candace‌ ‌had‌ ‌led‌ ‌the‌ ‌sorority’s‌ ‌

social-events‌ ‌committee‌ ‌with‌ ‌setup,‌ ‌and‌ ‌they’d‌ ‌included‌ ‌heat‌ ‌lamps‌ ‌along‌ ‌the‌ ‌perimeter.‌ ‌The‌ ‌Mountain‌ ‌

View‌ ‌dorm—which‌ ‌housed‌ ‌all‌ ‌campus‌ ‌sororities,‌ ‌each‌ ‌with‌ ‌their‌ ‌own‌ ‌wing—was‌ ‌on‌ ‌the‌ ‌northeast‌ ‌

corner‌ ‌of‌ ‌campus,‌ ‌adjacent‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌football‌ ‌field.‌ ‌The‌ ‌Spring‌ ‌Fling‌ ‌was‌ ‌held‌ ‌on‌ ‌the‌ ‌large‌ ‌lawn‌ ‌that‌ ‌framed‌ ‌

the‌ ‌north‌ ‌entrance,‌ ‌where‌ ‌they‌ ‌had‌ ‌the‌ ‌most‌ ‌room.‌ ‌It‌ ‌was‌ ‌open‌ ‌to‌ ‌all‌ ‌students‌ ‌for‌ ‌a‌ ‌five-dollar‌ ‌

admission,‌ ‌and‌ ‌was‌ ‌one‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌biggest‌ ‌moneymakers‌ ‌for‌ ‌the‌ ‌sorority,‌ ‌more‌ ‌than‌ ‌charities.‌ ‌Candace‌ ‌had‌ ‌

fought‌ ‌for—and‌ ‌won—giving‌ ‌the‌ ‌profits‌ ‌to‌ ‌a‌ ‌rescue‌ ‌mission‌ ‌that‌ ‌helped‌ ‌people‌ ‌get‌ ‌back‌ ‌on‌ ‌their‌ ‌feet.‌ ‌

She‌ ‌volunteered‌ ‌weekly‌ ‌for‌ ‌Sunrise‌ ‌Center,‌ ‌and‌ ‌it‌ ‌had‌ ‌changed‌ ‌how‌ ‌she‌ ‌viewed‌ ‌herself‌ ‌and‌ ‌her‌ ‌future.‌ ‌

She‌ ‌now‌ ‌planned‌ ‌to‌ ‌be‌ ‌a‌ ‌nurse‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌inner‌ ‌city,‌ ‌working‌ ‌for‌ ‌a‌ ‌clinic‌ ‌or‌ ‌public‌ ‌hospital,‌ ‌where‌ ‌people‌ ‌

deserved‌ ‌quality‌ ‌health‌ ‌care,‌ ‌even‌ ‌if‌ ‌they‌ ‌were‌ ‌struggling.‌ ‌She‌ ‌even‌ ‌considered‌ ‌specializing‌ ‌in‌ ‌drug‌ ‌and‌ ‌

alcohol‌ ‌issues,‌ ‌which‌ ‌were‌ ‌unfortunately‌ ‌prevalent‌ ‌among‌ ‌the‌ ‌homeless‌ ‌community.‌ ‌

She‌ ‌used‌ ‌to‌ ‌think‌ ‌of‌ ‌her‌ ‌volunteerism‌ ‌as‌ ‌penance‌ ‌for‌ ‌her‌ ‌failings.‌ ‌She‌ ‌wasn’t‌ ‌religious‌ ‌but‌ ‌had‌ ‌

had‌ ‌enough‌ ‌preaching‌ ‌from‌ ‌her‌ ‌devout‌ ‌grandmother‌ ‌to‌ ‌have‌ ‌absorbed‌ ‌things‌ ‌like‌ ‌guilt,‌ ‌penance,‌ ‌

sacrifice.‌ ‌Now,‌ ‌she‌ ‌looked‌ ‌forward‌ ‌to‌ ‌Tuesdays‌ ‌when‌ ‌she‌ ‌gave‌ ‌six‌ ‌hours‌ ‌of‌ ‌her‌ ‌time‌ ‌to‌ ‌those‌ ‌who‌ ‌were‌ ‌

far‌ ‌worse‌ ‌off‌ ‌than‌ ‌she.‌ ‌It‌ ‌reminded‌ ‌her‌ ‌to‌ ‌be‌ ‌grateful‌ ‌for‌ ‌what‌ ‌she‌ ‌had,‌ ‌that‌ ‌things‌ ‌could‌ ‌be‌ ‌worse.‌ ‌

Candace‌ ‌exited‌ ‌through‌ ‌the‌ ‌north‌ ‌doors‌ ‌and‌ ‌stood‌ ‌at‌ ‌the‌ ‌top‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌short‌ ‌flight‌ ‌of‌ ‌stairs‌ ‌that‌ ‌led‌ ‌

to‌ ‌the‌ ‌main‌ ‌lawn.‌ ‌Though‌ ‌still‌ ‌early‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌evening,‌ ‌the‌ ‌party‌ ‌was‌ ‌already‌ ‌hopping.‌ ‌Music‌ ‌played‌ ‌from‌ ‌all‌ ‌

corners‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌yard,‌ ‌the‌ ‌din‌ ‌of‌ ‌voices‌ ‌and‌ ‌laughter‌ ‌mingling‌ ‌with‌ ‌a‌ ‌popular‌ ‌song.‌ ‌In‌ ‌the‌ ‌dusk,‌ ‌the‌ ‌

towering‌ ‌mountains‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌north‌ ‌were‌ ‌etched‌ ‌in‌ ‌fading‌ ‌light.‌ ‌She‌ ‌breathed‌ ‌deeply.‌ ‌She‌ ‌loved‌ ‌everything‌ ‌

about‌ ‌Flagstaff.‌ ‌The‌ ‌green‌ ‌mountains‌ ‌filled‌ ‌with‌ ‌pine‌ ‌and‌ ‌juniper.‌ ‌The‌ ‌crisp,‌ ‌fresh‌ ‌air.‌ ‌The‌ ‌sense‌ ‌of‌ ‌

community‌ ‌and‌ ‌belonging‌ ‌felt‌ ‌so‌ ‌natural‌ ‌here,‌ ‌something‌ ‌she’d‌ ‌never‌ ‌had‌ ‌growing‌ ‌up‌ ‌in‌ ‌Colorado‌ ‌

Springs.‌ ‌With‌ ‌graduation‌ ‌on‌ ‌the‌ ‌horizon,‌ ‌she‌ ‌had‌ ‌been‌ ‌feeling‌ ‌a‌ ‌sense‌ ‌of‌ ‌loss,‌ ‌knowing‌ ‌she‌ ‌was‌ ‌going‌ ‌to‌ ‌

miss‌ ‌this‌ ‌special‌ ‌place.‌ ‌

She‌ ‌wasn’t‌ ‌close‌ ‌to‌ ‌her‌ ‌parents,‌ ‌who‌ ‌divorced‌ ‌right‌ ‌before‌ ‌she‌ ‌started‌ ‌high‌ ‌school‌ ‌and‌ ‌still‌ ‌

fought‌ ‌as‌ ‌much‌ ‌as‌ ‌they‌ ‌did‌ ‌when‌ ‌they‌ ‌were‌ ‌married.‌ ‌She‌ ‌desperately‌ ‌missed‌ ‌her‌ ‌younger‌ ‌sister,‌ ‌Chrissy,‌ ‌

a‌ ‌freshman‌ ‌at‌ ‌the‌ ‌University‌ ‌of‌ ‌South‌ ‌Carolina.‌ ‌She’d‌ ‌wanted‌ ‌Chrissy‌ ‌to‌ ‌come‌ ‌here‌ ‌for‌ ‌college,‌ ‌but‌ ‌

Chrissy‌ ‌was‌ ‌a‌ ‌champion‌ ‌swimmer‌ ‌and‌ ‌had‌ ‌received‌ ‌a‌ ‌full‌ ‌scholarship‌ ‌to‌ ‌study‌ ‌practically‌ ‌a‌ ‌world‌ ‌away.‌ ‌

Candace‌ ‌had‌ ‌no‌ ‌plans‌ ‌to‌ ‌return‌ ‌to‌ ‌Colorado‌ ‌Springs,‌ ‌but‌ ‌she‌ ‌didn’t‌ ‌know‌ ‌if‌ ‌she‌ ‌wanted‌ ‌to‌ ‌follow‌ ‌her‌ ‌

sister‌ ‌to‌ ‌the‌ ‌East‌ ‌Coast‌ ‌or‌ ‌head‌ ‌down‌ ‌to‌ ‌Phoenix‌ ‌where‌ ‌they‌ ‌had‌ ‌some‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌best‌ ‌job‌ ‌opportunities‌ ‌for‌ ‌

what‌ ‌she‌ ‌wanted‌ ‌to‌ ‌do.‌ ‌

Vicky‌ ‌Ryan,‌ ‌a‌ ‌first‌ ‌year‌ ‌student‌ ‌who‌ ‌had‌ ‌aspirations‌ ‌of‌ ‌leadership,‌ ‌ran‌ ‌up‌ ‌to‌ ‌her.‌ ‌

“That‌ ‌weirdo‌ ‌is‌ ‌back,”‌ ‌Vicky‌ ‌said‌ ‌quietly.‌ ‌“Near‌ ‌the‌ ‌west‌ ‌steps.‌ ‌Just‌ ‌loitering‌ ‌there,‌ ‌freaking‌ ‌

people‌ ‌out.‌ ‌Should‌ ‌I‌ ‌call‌ ‌campus‌ ‌police?”‌ ‌

Candace‌ ‌frowned.‌ ‌The‌ ‌man‌ ‌Vicky‌ ‌was‌ ‌referring‌ ‌to‌ ‌was‌ ‌Joseph,‌ ‌and‌ ‌he‌ ‌wasn’t‌ ‌really‌ ‌a‌ ‌weirdo.‌ ‌He‌ ‌

was‌ ‌an‌ ‌alcoholic,‌ ‌and‌ ‌mostly‌ ‌homeless,‌ ‌who‌ ‌sometimes‌ ‌wandered‌ ‌onto‌ ‌campus‌ ‌and‌ ‌wouldn’t‌ ‌accept‌ ‌the‌ ‌

help‌ ‌he‌ ‌had‌ ‌been‌ ‌repeatedly‌ ‌offered.‌ ‌He‌ ‌wasn’t‌ ‌violent,‌ ‌just‌ ‌confused,‌ ‌and‌ ‌sometimes‌ ‌got‌ ‌lost‌ ‌in‌ ‌his‌ ‌own‌ ‌

head,‌ ‌largely‌ ‌from‌ ‌how‌ ‌alcohol‌ ‌had‌ ‌messed‌ ‌with‌ ‌his‌ ‌mind‌ ‌and‌ ‌body.‌ ‌But‌ ‌his‌ ‌problems‌ ‌understandably‌ ‌

made‌ ‌her‌ ‌sorority‌ ‌sisters‌ ‌uncomfortable.‌ ‌He’d‌ ‌twice‌ ‌been‌ ‌caught‌ ‌urinating‌ ‌against‌ ‌the‌ ‌wall‌ ‌outside‌ ‌their‌ ‌

dorm;‌ ‌both‌ ‌times,‌ ‌he’d‌ ‌been‌ ‌cited‌ ‌by‌ ‌campus‌ ‌police.‌ ‌He‌ ‌wasn’t‌ ‌supposed‌ ‌to‌ ‌be‌ ‌on‌ ‌campus‌ ‌at‌ ‌all‌ ‌

anymore,‌ ‌and‌ ‌Candace‌ ‌knew‌ ‌they’d‌ ‌arrest‌ ‌him‌ ‌if‌ ‌he‌ ‌was‌ ‌caught.‌ ‌   

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