Chapter Three
It had been as grey and withered a November day as Regan Wheat could remember. A vile cold shot through three layers of clothing as she braced herself against the wind and trudged head bowed to the studio at 15th Place. If it hadnt been for leaving Jon, she wouldnt have had to take the trolley and walk the rest on foot, but this was the price she paid for taking back her life and her freedom to chooseshe could choose to brave the wild November days.
Hello, Deanna, she said, pulling off her red stocking cap and sighing heavily as a crude chill passed through her body inside and out.
Couldnt be more miserable, could it?
Not if God were throwing icicles, she smiled, and looked around at the glowing lamplight that infused the lobby with warmth. There was a gently ki
