And why did that make her feel weird?
Her childhood. The loneliness.
No one’s left in the lurch here.
Enough. She gave herself a mental shake and took the proffered car keys. She needed to find… Moby Dick? She also needed to figure out the boundaries of the next few days.
For boundaries had to be set, she told herself. Boundaries were what she lived within.
She could do this.
But at the back of her mind a question was niggling. She’d wanted to ask Roscoe but her boundaries had stopped her.
These were Tom’s stepsons—what on earth was a man doing with three kids who weren’t his own?
Hadn’t he heard of boundaries?
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