Mrs Riley's POVI couldn't breathe. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly they ached, but I barely felt it. Victoria. After twenty years, that name shouldn't have the power to make my world collapse. But here I was, speeding down the highway in my Lexus, running from a ghost.

In my rearview mirror, I could see junior's BMW a few cars back. Even from this distance, I knew what his face would look like—that stone mask he wore when he was trying to hide his

emotions. The same face he'd ...