I touch her arm as I pass toward the coffee maker. The relationship between Ruby and Hazel was ambiguous at best, but it was clearly stronger than your usual housekeeper and homeowner relationship. Either that or Ruby is taking this all very hard.

What am I supposed to say at this point? Hazel’s body was just removed last night. We have to start planning the funeral and discuss the will. I’m anxious to get things going, but I don’t want to come across as too eager.

After pouring myself a cup, I sit down next to Lucy. She gives me a sweet smile, which I return. “What are you making?” I ask.

“Flowers.” She’s cutting petal-shaped paper and coloring it with a small box of crayons.

“Can I help?”

She nods her head immediately and passes me paper and scissors. It’s just the kind of mindless work that keeps me busy while I wait for news about Hazel’s funeral. Of course, while I’m cutting and coloring, my mind keeps replaying the moments of last night with Murph.

Being with Murph was nothing like being with Hugo. Murph was passionate, attentive. He seemed to read my expressions and small movements, adjusting his motion, his position, his touch to exactly where I wanted it.

Not to mention, Murph turns me on more than any man ever has. His sharp eyes, thick beard, intoxicating presence. His touch on my body made me feel sexier than ever. No, it was more than that. It made me alive.

The last ten months have been all about going through the motions. I clean. I eat. I talk. Repeat. It felt like a blessing after living so long in a prison of fear and hatred, but I never realized how much life I was truly missing. My pulse hasn’t beat as fast as it did last night since the day I escaped Hugo. And just replaying the way it felt to move in his arms had it picking up speed again.

I really need to think about something else. Murph’s naked body is playing on the projection screen in my mind, and it feels like a total violation sitting so close to a five-year-old.

Just then, he walks into the room. He takes one look at me and Lucy and pauses. I can’t react. Not that it’s much of a secret, I don’t quite know how to behave around others now. As he continues toward the coffee maker, I look away, keeping our little rendezvous a secret.

“What are you doing?” he asks blankly.

“Making flowers,” I answer with a small smile.