Chapter 12Work was done for the day. It was pleasant enough, editing a topnotch thriller by a new writer that not only genuinely thrilled but spoke to the empowerment of women. And the book came to her in practically flawless shape, so she had to keep reminding herself she was an editor and not a fan of the author’s.
But pleasant or not, Cara thought—reclining on the couch with a glass of cabernet—she was worn out. Her head swam from all the words she’d ingested, nearly thirty thousand of them, a record for her. She’d have to slow down or the publisher she worked freelance for would expect such speed all the time.
She closed her eyes and let her mind drift. As often happened, she went, quite without planning to, back to when she was a kid. These days, childhood memories popped up with mo
