Annabelle’s descent down the stairs felt like walking into her own execution.

Her eyes, red-rimmed and puffy from the shameful cry she'd indulged in at dawn, caught her reflection in the glass of a nearby frame.

She winced.

If the universe had any mercy left for her, it would open up right now and swallow her whole.

But no such luck.

Instead, the tinkling sound of feminine laughter floated up the stairs, wrapping around her like a cruel invitation.

It drew her closer to the breakfast room, a place she would have given anything to avoid right now.

Her fingers trailed along the bannister as if to anchor herself.

But...