Juliette's POV

I had just left the small corner store, the one I stopped by to grab milk, bread, and a few other odds and ends, my grocery bag swinging loosely from my wrist. The routine errand should have been quick and uneventful, not until I heard my name.

“Juliette.”

The voice cut through the lazy afternoon air like a knife. My stomach plummeted into my heels. I didn’t need to turn to know who it was. I didn’t want to know, but I did anyway.

My head snapped toward the sound, ...