Chapter 39: Mary

I smooth the edge of my white linen blouse and adjust the angle of the canvas umbrella over our terrace table. The St. Jude outdoor cafe sits on an elevated stone pavilion, providing a clear view of the lower northern lawn where the concrete foundation blocks for the Harvest Pavilion are set into the turf. On the table between us rests a polished silver tray holding a teapot of chamomile and a small porcelain plate with three Madagascar vanilla macarons.

Chloe lifts a macaron, her small fingers leaving a faint trace of powdered sugar on her white uniform collar. She bites into the pink shell, her eyes...