A cool ocean breeze greeted her. “Ah.” She took a seat on the old rocking chair in the living room. “Chinese food for breakfast?” Ron stood behind her, rocking the chair with one hand. “It was just so good; I couldn’t resist.” “May I have a bite?” Ron eased the carton from her hands. “Yes, you may. I’m just about full.” He took the last two morsels of sweet and sour chicken. Charlie, his head on his paws on the plush navy blue sofa, raised his ears. “I just fed you, you silly dog,” Jenny said. “Jenny?” “Yeah, hon.” “I need to tell you something.” Ron’s voice was grim. Jenny turned her head. “What?” Ron paused, not knowing what to say. “Um.” “Tell me.”