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“He’s got a broken arm and broken ribs, a punctured lung and he lost part of his spleen. But he’s alive, and we feel blessed.”

“I’m so glad, dear. I know you must’ve been pretty frightened.”

“Yes, I barely remember most of what happened yesterday.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she recalled her encounter with Steven in the apartment. She labored to breathe.

“I thought I’d give you a report on our little project,” said Gram. “My little ploy worked like a charm. Thanks to my ‘chest pains,’ Steven’s been very distracted. And Michelle is supposed to fly out tonight. So I think we’re safe for now.”

“That’s great, Gram.”

At this point, Anne wondered if it might’ve been better if Steven had reunited with Michelle. At least that would’ve removed him as a temptation.

What would she do if he tried to kiss her again?

I’d let him—that’s what I’d do. Because I have the willpower of a sea cucumber.

“So what do you think our next step should be?” asked Gram.

“You should keep him distracted until Monday. I mean, really distracted. You probably shouldn’t even give him enough time to call me. You know, so I won’t remind him of Henri and he won’t call Michelle and beg her to come back.”

“What happens on Monday?”

“That’s when I’m gonna introduce Steven to my friend, Ellen, the actress. Remember?”

“I don’t know this girl. I may not like her.”

“We’ll have to cross that bridge when we get to it. I’ll call you on Monday, okay?”

Anne hung up the phone with a sigh of relief. Charlie was staring with her mouth wide open. Emily was frowning as she drove.

Charlie started in. “What was that, Mom? You want Gram to keep Mr. Gherring from calling you?”

“Out with it,” said Emily. “We want the truth.”

Her phone began to ring again. Spying Steven's name on the caller ID, she rejected the call.

“Why didn’t you take the call, Mom?” questioned Charlie.

“It was no one important. I’ll call them back later. We’re almost to the hospital.”

“Mom, we’re on your side, you know. If you can’t talk to us, who can you talk to?” Charlie leaned forward, her face earnest.

“Yeah, Mom. I’ll start, okay? I’ve talked to Spencer on the phone a couple of times and on FaceTime a couple of times.”

Charlie started to squeal, but Emily held up a hand to silence her.

“The jury is still out. I don’t know if I like him or if I even trust him. But I’ll tell you as soon as I decide.” Emily paused, glancing back at her mother. “Now it’s your turn. Why don’t you want to talk to Mr. Gherring?”

Anne contemplated. Charlie was right—if she couldn’t talk to her girls, who could she talk to? No one. She couldn’t tell her girls what had happened. She didn’t even know herself what had happened or what it meant. And she had no one she could talk to.

“Can we just say I’m afraid to talk to him right now and leave it at that?”

“Hmmm,” said Charlie. “I don’t know. Sister, what do you think? Could we leave it at that?”

“No. Probably not. That doesn’t really sound like us.”

“If you’re afraid to talk to him now, and you don’t talk to him during the Thanksgiving holidays, what’s gonna happen when you go back to work on Monday?”

“I’ll act like nothing ever happened and go to work.”

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