The same thing with Renée. When both women said they were alone and their men hadn’t come in from work, Danielle appreciated the difference in time zones.“Has either of you discovered anything else?” she asked, dropping into the love seat in her room.“Before we answer that, we want to know how things are going in San Francisco. How is Tristan?”Danielle rolled her eyes, knowing why they were asking. “That’s not the issue here, ladies.”“We think it is, Danielle,” she heard Renée say. “We’re worried about you. We care.”She couldn’t help but be touched. Over the past two months, they had endured a lot together, had felt the same pain, had been cut by the same deceit. Only difference from her was that they had moved on and had lives.But she mustn’t allow herself to dwell on that right now. The most important issue, the most pressing issue was the fact that there was another person out there somewhere, another of Marc Foster’s victims. That was what she had to focus on.“I’m fine, really.
