Thalia drove through the tall iron gates of the mansion, the tires humming against the smooth driveway until her car rolled to a gentle stop beneath the glowing porch lights.

The same time, two other sleek cars screeched to a halt behind her. George had insisted on the entourage, a quiet team that followed her everywhere since the accident, though she never thought she needed it.

But he had insisted.

“Sweetie, you are my wife. I would never want to take any ...