“He’s a dog.”
Hayes swallowed.
“He’s her dog.”
Wyatt turned his pistol toward him.
“Excuse me?”
That was when Cora knew.
Hayes wasn’t one of them.
Not completely.
Not yet.
He was afraid of Wyatt.
Continue on the next page:
Buzz
At family dinner, my husband secretly emptied a tiny white packet into my soup, then sneered, “Eat it, Diane. Stop pretending to be sick for attention.”
The moment I saw my husband empty a small amount of white powder into my bowl of chicken soup, twenty-six years of marriage changed…
