Chapters (54)
- Cover
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Epilogue
- A Note from the Author
- Discussion Questions
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Acclaim for David Rawlings
- Also by David Rawlings
Work again elbowed its way into his thoughts. It was flattering to have Monique’s attention, to feel the buzzing pulse of youth. But he would need to reinforce the boundaries. He was proud of his efforts to be a man of integrity. A few patients had thrown themselves at him—he was an obvious white knight to some—but he’d always stayed true to his wedding vows. At least Anna had his back.
The grass whipped at his shins as Daniel plowed along. He lifted the camera to his eye, and the flowers came alive, their yellow-and-white faces basking in the afternoon sun. Another satisfying clunk. An uncomfortable thought perched in his mind. If the camera was this good, why did the photos in Gramps’s album look so disappointing?
The thought of Gramps ushered in a wave of grief. He needed his wise counsel now more than ever. And he would ask him what he meant about seeing “where your hearts are.” More words that teetered on the edge of discomfort.
Daniel turned on his heel at the end of the path to face a perfect panorama. His home sat perched on the cliff top, floor-to-ceiling windows bracketed by white boards and topped by gray slate. A symbol of success, to be paid for by his second book, the one Amanda was sure would cash in on the success of No Secrets.
Anxiety clawed at his neck. Who would take a photo of his book and scrub his name from the cover?
The gray clouds parted, and the white boards of his house glowed and throbbed in the afternoon sun. Daniel put the camera to his eye, but the brightness faded as if the clouds had joined again.
His finger closed down on the shutter but met resistance. There was no clunk. He squeezed the trigger again. Resistance. He checked the top of the camera. Next to the serrated silver knob was the tiniest window, and in it an angry, red F.
The film was used up. Again.
Someone had taken photos with the camera. Again.
Daniel breathed hard. This time it couldn’t have been someone at work. It was either Milly or Kelly.
He tramped back to the house, annoyance growing with each step. It would cost him another thirty-three dollars to get this roll of film developed, and he still hadn’t used the camera like Gramps wanted him to.
* * *
Daniel stared at his reflection in the polished floorboards of the foyer as if seeking strength in numbers. He would confront Kelly first.