Rae cocked her head to the side. “I’m already signed up.” She’d done so months ago. “Are you nervous I’ll bail on you? I won’t. All my other commitments are in the trash bin, but I’ll help with the fundraiser. The event is important to you.”
“And I appreciate it, Rae. This year, we’re handling the publicity. I signed us up this morning.”
“Great. I’m ready whenever you are. Should I get design quotes for the graphics?” Searching for her lost verve, Rae added, “The new quick-print shop has opened on Cherry Street. Nice woman, from Shaker Heights. She’s having the Witt Agency handle the business insurance. Let’s have her bid on the flyers. Keep it local, if possible.”
“Sounds great.”
“Yeah? Then why do you look nervous?”
Yuna smiled, but the merriment didn’t reach her eyes. “Because I am.” She clasped Rae’s hand, as if to steady her. “The committee has new volunteers. A last-minute thing, and we could use the help. There’s extra money in this year’s budget for the event. Both of the women have the connections to further our reach.”
A terrible intuition drew Rae back. “Who volunteered?”
“Sally Harrow and Katherine Thomerson.”
The news kicked the air from Rae’s lungs. Sally’s daughter and Katherine’s were ninth graders at the high school and best friends. The girls were inseparable. Their mothers were part of the loose social group of women active in the PTA and local campaigns benefiting Geauga County. Rae wasn’t close to either woman; in the past, their interactions had been cordial at best. Since the tragedy last October, she’d been steering clear of Sally and Katherine, and their popular daughters.
“Rae, I’m sure they volunteered because, well, you’ve been avoiding them.”
“I’ve been avoiding everyone. Except you.” She watched Kameko stroke the spider plant like a favored pet, then kiss a wilting leaf. “And the bean sprout.”
“Which is totally understandable, but Sally and Katherine feel terrible. We all do. Avoiding them only makes this worse.”
The remark was absurd. From the onset, the situation was beyond repair. When the PD had called Rae that October night, she’d lost everything. Nothing could make it worse.
“I don’t care, Yuna. Keep them on the committee. I’ll stand aside.” A sea swell of emotion pitched through her. Suppressing it, she latched on to her sense of fair play, which ran deep. “I can probably find a way to deal with Sally. She’s a reminder I can do without, but she’d have the sense to give me space. I’ve never blamed her. But if you put me in a room with Katherine, I swear I won’t stop screaming.”
“Oh, Rae.” Pity laced Yuna’s voice. “Katherine isn’t at fault. Why do you keep blaming her? It was an accident.”
Chapter 4
Yuna’s car disappeared behind a curtain of snow. With stiff movements, Rae put away Kameko’s watering can and the baking sheets.
A sports channel murmured in the living room. Her father lay on the couch, snoring. Rae fetched a blanket and covered him.
The revelation that Sally Harrow and Katherine Thomerson were joining the fundraising committee shook something loose inside Rae—an essential piece of her emotional makeup she’d unwittingly relied upon to hold herself together. Her breaths came fast and shallow. Pressure built in her chest, seeking release.
On autopilot, she went into the mudroom and put on her hiking boots. She was still buttoning her coat when she strode into the weak afternoon light and the relentless snowfall.
In defiance of the weather, birds flitted across the branches of the pine trees. Avoiding the wind’s fearsome gusts, they converged on clumps of sunflower seeds she’d thrown down earlier. Squirrels chattered in the bitter air, their tails flicking through the frosted undergrowth. Veering away from the barn, Rae followed their noisy complaints toward the forest. She needed to get far enough from the house to scream until her throat blistered. There was nothing rational about her rage, or reasonable. It spilled over in hot waves.
Walking blindly, she nearly walked into him.
Shock brought her to a standstill. With alarm, she took stock of her surroundings. The gentle incline led to a V-shaped wall of heavy brush. The forest lay beyond. Straying in this direction was a mistake.
Even in summer she avoided this section of the property, and the dreaded tree. Quinn Galecki huddled beneath the tree with his back pressed to the icy trunk. Deep in thought, he appeared deaf to her approach.