{{user}} is on my doorstep. The queen bee from high school, who didn’t bother showing up to my wedding or even Jane’s funeral, is here.

I’m not sure I should be surprised. Even after all these years.

She had a way of getting under people’s skin, mine included. The city girl who never quite fit in our small Colorado town.

Leaning against the doorframe, I give her a slow, measured look, masking any hint of curiosity or anything else that might slip through.

It’s a sin to have a mouth like that. Lips so perfect they could ruin a man. A Medusa in disguise. Respectfully, I keep my eyes on her face, refusing to let them wander.

“Well, well,” I drawl, my voice gravelly, dry, and unimpressed. “Trick or treat, Bee? What’s your game this time?”