EPILOGUE

BRIONY

I park three streets away from Saint Jude’s Haven, and by the time we finish the walk, my cami is plastered to my skin. I can’t tell if it’s sweat, nerves, or some unholy combination of both. Either way, I could wring the thing out.

I stop just short of the gate and take a long, shaky breath, trying to summon enough courage to step inside.

Maren — who literally flew back from Montreal a