“Thank God. I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”
“Mom.” My throat tightened. “Where are you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, honey. I’m at Margaret’s house, you know, our neighbor three doors down. After the funeral I just couldn’t bear being in that house alone, so Margaret insisted I stay here tonight.”
She smiled wider.
“But David’s been calling me worried sick about you. He said you left the cemetery without telling anyone where you were going.”
Carter’s fingers flew over his keyboard.
“Why didn’t you answer earlier?” I asked, staring at her. “I called right after the funeral.”
“Oh, honey, my phone died. You know how I am with charging it. Margaret let me borrow hers once we got back here.”
She leaned toward the camera.
“Emma, please just go home. David loves you so much. Whatever’s going on, whatever you two fought about, just go home and talk to him.”
“We didn’t fight,” I said slowly.
“Well, he seems to think you’re upset about something. He’s at home waiting for you right now. Just go home, sweetheart. Go to David. Everything will be okay.”
David.
Not your husband.
Not that husband of yours.
Just David.
