She never should have allowed William to invite his sister to the house on Thanksgiving those years ago, allowed that creature to meet and seduce her niece, entice her to New York, and whomever this woman was—she did not get the name—Mary was mixed up in it.
Her heart skipped a beat. What if it were true? Of course, it was not. But what if it were true? Sitting in the kitchen where she took the call, Kate flung her nearly-empty cup against the wall and glared as it scattered into a million pieces. She was glad her husband was playing golf. And then she did something that she had often done in the last two years. She cried and cried.