2
IVY PADDED AROUND IN HER closet in her knitted slippers. She rummaged through the clothes she’d brought from Boston—most of which were entirely wrong for the mild California climate or were too conservative for casual Summer Beach. The only ones that worked were those she’d bought for their Nantucket holidays.
As she was searching for something clean and presentable that fit—which edged out much of her wardrobe—her slipper snagged on a wooden slat. Most of the wood floors in the house had been worn smooth over time, but then, a closet wouldn’t have had as much traffic, she mused.
Ivy bent to dislodge the yarn with care. As she did, the piece of wood rocked to one side, as if it hadn’t been adequately secured.
Eager to be downstairs when the guests rose, she found jeans and a flowing
