Charlotte was waiting for me at the top of the stairs when I emerged from the basement. She touched me with trembling fingers, face pale in the low light of the tiny bulb over the oven, eyes frantic. But she calmed the moment our skin made contact, her hand clenching around mine almost painfully before she settled, taking a step back.

"Here's the keys." She handed them to me, no longer trembling, as though it was no big deal.

I really loved her ...