Page 30 - My FlipBook
P. 30
L IS A J. L A W R E N C E
unmade bed, it looked too tidy. No—bare. It looked bare.
She pulled open the dresser drawers. Not quite empty, but
nearly. Some panty hose and summer shorts left behind.
“Ash, the closet.” He swung open the door and pawed
through the hangers. The same. Roger’s suit still hung there,
and a dress Patty wore once to a wedding.
The results. She couldn’t look at Ash.
In eight years, Dictator Patty had never, ever lost a battle. ADVANCE READING COPY
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