My husband stood beside my empty casket and thanked everyone for praying for our unborn son. He didn’t know I was watching the memorial from a locked hospital room—or that the retired smokejumper who pulled me from our burning cabin had just shown me proof that the fire was planned. Then my husband’s mistress stepped to the microphone and announced they would run my company together. I stopped waiting.
Grant stopped speaking. I walked slowly down the aisle with Nathan beside me and Sheriff Shaw several steps behind. The entire chapel rose. Grant gripped the podium. “Lena?” Brooke moved away from him. I...