Then another message appeared.
You seemed upset tonight.
Is Sophie bothering you with those accident questions again?
My blood ran cold.
Miles wasn’t supposed to know Sophie had been asking questions.
I hadn’t mentioned it.
And then he sent one final message.
Remember, Emily.
Some things are better left buried.
For the first time in five years, I wondered whether the man who had helped me bury my husband had also been responsible for putting him in the ground.
CHAPTER 2 — THE MAN WHO SAVED ME FROM GRIEF
Before everything changed, Miles Carter had seemed like a miracle.
When Grant died, I was thirty-eight years old.
I had five daughters to raise, a mortgage to manage, and a grief so enormous that sometimes I forgot how to perform the simplest tasks.
Our three sons—Nathan, sixteen; Oliver, fourteen; and Benjamin, twelve—had been the center of their father’s world.
