The irony was almost too perfect. Darren and Kitty's wedding anniversary fell on the same day as my parents' death anniversary.
Every year, Kitty would cling to him, demanding he celebrate with her, and I'd go alone.
The next day, on the road to the cemetery, Darren's phone rang.
He hung up, slammed the brakes, and turned to me with fury blazing in his eyes.
"Juliana Henson, you called the police about yesterday?!"
"Do you have any idea that the cops took Kitty in for questioning last night?!"
I shook my head, bewildered.
"I didn't—"
"Enough." Darren cut me off, his voice ice-cold. "And here I thought you were sweet and sensible. Turns out you're just calculating."
"Get out. Take a cab the rest of the way."
"Kitty's never been humiliated like that in her life. She's been crying nonstop. I need to go see her."
I froze. It was twenty-something below zero outside. Snow drifted past the windows.
"The cemetery is still over ten miles from here. We're in the middle of nowhere. Where am I supposed to find a cab?"
He scoffed, a mocking smile curling his lips.
"So what?"
"Go ahead and run to my parents. Have them beat me to death. Or better yet, call the cops on me too, so you can stop saying I owe you."