Page 30 of The Pink House

Eating a snowball at the Frederick County Fair.

Swimming at Devil’s Bathtub.

If I’d had more time, I’d have taken you to all those places and more, because these are where I was the happiest. All I ever wanted was to bring you that same happiness.

I want that for you now.

I want you to be happy.

There was no signature. It wasn’t necessary. Hannah knew Brian had written the words. To her.

Tears slipped down her cheeks. She hoped Brian didn’t think that she regretted any of the time they’d shared. They’d been happy together. They’d had a wonderful life together. How could they have known their time together would be cut so short?

A brisk knock at the door had Hannah’s head jerking up. She swiped at her damp cheeks with the pads of her fingers.

Folding the letter, she placed it with the envelope on the coffee table before standing and calling out, “Who is it?”

“Charlie. May I come in?”

Hannah didn’t want to see him now. Didn’t want to see anyone. She wanted to sit in the darkened room and cry over unfulfilled dreams. Only now did she realize she hadn’t turned on any lights. No matter, there had been enough light from the outside for her to read the letter.

“Is everything okay?”

The concern in Charlie’s voice had Hannah opening the door.

“Hi, Charlie.” She could have cheered when her voice came out steady. “What can I do for you?”

His gaze, sharp and assessing, took in her tear-stained face and trembling hands.

Try as she might, Hannah hadn’t been able to still the shaking that came from deep within.

“Did you find the house?”

She blinked.

“Did you find the pink house?” He jerked his head in the direction of the woods.

“I did.” The visit had been lovely, until Maisie had given her the envelope.

“I thought as much.” Charlie narrowed his gaze. “Did the people hurt you?”

“People?”

“The ones at the house.”

“It was just one woman today, and no,” she shook her head, “she didn’t hurt me. We had a nice conversation on the porch.”

“Good. That’s good.” The tense set to his jaw eased slightly as he rocked back on his heels. “Then what’s the matter?”

“Who says anything is the matter?”

The look he shot her told her to give it to him straight.

“Right before I left, Maisie—that’s the woman’s name—gave me a letter.”

Charlie arched a dark brow. “Who from?”

“From Brian.”

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