“Why didn’t they find an apartment that accepted dogs? A lot of them do.”

“Typical excuse when people get tired of taking care of a pet.”

Sadie looks at me and wags her tail, and I’m smitten. “I won’t do that. My husband and I believe that pets are family forever.”

That seems to change the woman’s tune. She’s smiling now. “Okay, Mrs. Bradley. Looks like Sadie here is happy. Finish up that paperwork, and if everything checks out, you and your husband have a new family member.”

I don’t have the heart to tell her Jay is dead. It will be just me and Sadie.

“Thanks. That would be great.”

* * *

On the way home, Sadie and I stop at the pet store, where I buy a cart full of stuff she’ll need: food, toys, a plush dog bed, stainless steel bowls. When we get home, she is tentative about coming in the house, and I have to coax her. I curse her former owners. She’s definitely unsure, as if waiting for someone to yell at her. But she walks well on the leash, and I finally get her in the house, where she sticks close by my side. I put her stuff away, drag a thirty-pound bag of dry food into the laundry room, then wash and fill one of her bowls with water.

The landline rings, and I pick up the receiver, Sadie’s food dish in my other hand.

“Mrs. Bradley?” I pause. I don’t recognize the voice.

“Yes?”

“Hi, it’s George Barton from Mountclair Dry Goods?”

“Oh, yes.”

“That window Jay ordered has come in. You’ll let him know then?”

I swallow. “Yes, of course. Thank you, Mr. Barton.” I hang up before the conversation can continue. Why didn’t I tell him about Jay? I’m going to have to start letting people who don’t live here know. Mountclair is the little town at the foot of the mountain where our New Hampshire house is located. It’s where we pick up supplies. Where we cheerfully browse the racks of canned goods and snacks, glass-fronted coolers full of beer and soft drinks. Kerosene and camping gear fill one corner of the store, everything you might need for a weekend in the mountains. I’d worked Saturday the week before Jay’s birthday, so he ran up to the house alone. He told me he’d boarded up the window and ordered a new one from George. I sit on a kitchen chair. One more thing to worry about. Sadie walks to my side, her claws clicking on the wood floor, and lays her head in my lap.

CHAPTER 20

Molly

FRIDAY MORNING IS DIM, THE SUN BURIED SOMEWHERE ABOVE THE thick cloud deck so common in the Northeast in winter. Graybridge Books sits on a corner of the square, its lights glowing inside like a warm beacon. The weather has turned colder, and fat snowflakes swirl and land on the sidewalk, covering everything in white. I took a shower this morning, dressed in slim black pants and a green sweater, put on a little makeup, trying to put a little color in my cheeks and hide the dark circles under my eyes.