Daniel poured coffee into a cup and handed it to her, drawing her over to the couch. “Three months ago.”
He bit off the words, and Leigh was sure he wouldn’t say more. She certainly wouldn’t ask him.
He poured his own coffee, sat down and frowned at nothing in particular. “She was killed in a car accident.”
“I’m so sorry.” Sorry for him, sorry for Sarah, sorry she’d brought it up.
“Ashley always wanted to be a singer.” Daniel’s voice flattened. He might have been talking about someone he’d never known. “When she left the island, she started taking singing jobs wherever she could find them. Every one was going to be her big break.” His fingers tightened on the cup, and she realized the apparent detachment didn’t exist. “She went head-on into a bridge abutment on her way back from a club job in Columbus.”
Tell me how to deal with this, Lord. I’m in over my depth. She sat down next to him, as if the mere presence of another human being might help.
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