This time, however, the elusive Madame Brighthall made her appearance. Anyone who could read between the lines knew what that meant. And so everyone began to treat Charlene as the confirmed Mrs. Brighthall.

Charlene had achieved her objective.

Deirdre switched off the TV, hung a coat on herself, and went upstairs to her bed. She placed her hand on her abdomen and lay on her back for a while before finally falling asleep. As her dream slowly coalesced, her phone suddenly rang from beside her head.

She was startled awake. Feeling for her phone, she pressed the answer button and asked raspily, “Who’s this?”

“Dee.”

Hearing Kyran’s voice drew Deirdre out of her sleep, though not necessarily out of her dream. It felt as though she was back in those days again when Kyran was just Kyran. But if it were a dream, then why did she feel a chill crawling up her spine?

She steeled herself as best she could. “Kyran? Are you finally finished with your work?”

“Mm… Hmm…” He sounded drunk. His