Willowsby, Georgia, was lined with small independent shops in the center of town and had beautiful white pillared plantation homes on the outskirts with more acres of grass than Courtney had ever anticipated possible. Mimosa, cypress, and river birch trees bordered the yards, hanging with Spanish moss, giving the elongated driveways some privacy from the road. Weeping willow braches drooped low in a way that seemed to shield their patrons from harm, protecting their loved ones. Porches wrapped around the homes, processions of flowers in boxes adding splashes of color.
Serena had the top down on the Mustang, and Courtney breathed in the aromas. Cut grass. Damp, rain-scented air. Someone was grilling off in the distance. Children were running about in a way she was never allowed. Their lau
