The swollen February sky brooded with purple and rosy hues, as though Mother Nature had slapped it. There was no point for Simone to put on a happy face her fickle emotions had bounced erratically between pain and joy all day. She supposed it was Mr. Cavendish standing at the rusted Iron Gate, towering behind him like the grill of a Mack truck. His tiny red sports car was off to the side, allowing her to drive on the narrow pavement leading to Celeste’s estate. No. It was her estate now. A chill stung her cheeks as she powered down the Jeep window and waited as the unsmiling octogenarian slowly meandered to the door. “Simone Devereux?” Old weathered skin told a silent story of years sailing and a life by the sea as he leaned in close to her. It was interesting Celeste had chosen this grumpy relic as her attorney. [download]
Format : Ebook.Pdf
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