Hands shaking, she crammed clothing into the larger of her two bags and managed, with an effort, to zip it closed, the sound loud and ragged in the early-morning silence.

She froze for a moment, listening, then pulled the bag off her tumbled bed. Her duffel bag sat waiting, also stuffed with her things, and as she hooked the strap over her shoulder she spared a brief moment to wish she didn’t have to leave so much behind.

Enough. Enough of that. She had to leave.

Now.

She carried both bags through the silent house, desperate not to make any noise at all. Just enough of the dawn light came through the windows to show her the way so she didn’t run into furniture or bang one of the bags against the wall or a doorjamb. She wasn’t sure whether she drew a full breath until she was outside in the grayish and muggy summer morning, the front door closed silently behind her.

Megan paused only a moment, still aware of the pounding of her heart even as she told herself he couldn’t possibly know she intended to leave today. No one could. And even if he had some idea, it was so early, way earlier than she ever got up, and why would he even be up himself, much less be out here in the valley near her home?

He wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t.

She had parked her car in the driveway’s turnaround the night before, making sure she wasn’t blocked in by any of the family cars. Still trying to be as quiet as possible, she put both bags in the back seat of her little Chevy and eased the door shut again.

It was so . . . still. Unusually hot for early morning, even in July, the humid air promised a storm later. She stood beside her car, nervous fingers toying with the strap of her handbag and then diving inside to find her keys.

She looked down at her hand, at the diamond engagement ring winking in the faint light, and pain throbbed through her, jagged and raw. She had been so excited, so certain that all her plans—all their plans—would lead them along the path to a happy life.

Today should have been her wedding day.

And now . . . she felt lost, suddenly rudderless, the whole rest of her life stretching out empty and lonely.

But that was just here in Salem, she told herself. There was nothing here for her now. Not anymore.

Still, she hesitated, breathing in the scents of honeysuckle and cut grass and, faintly, the neighboring stables. It smelled like summer in Salem. It smelled like home. She was vaguely surprised by the sudden intense regret she felt. Because it didn’t have to be forever, of course it didn’t. She could come back. One day. Maybe.

All she had to do—

“Megan.”

Her pounding heart lodged suddenly in her throat, and she swallowed as she forced herself to turn, to conjure a faint surprised smile.