It was strange to be near the beach without a sweater. Even during the spring and summer, San Francisco Bay tended to be chilly. The wind threatened to tear off the scarf that covered her hair, but she wasn’t too worried about it. She had a dozen others in her red leather shoulder bag, and this one was hardly her favorite.She glanced down at her naked ring finger in the early morning light and rubbed it absently. She didn’t regret breaking off her engagement; she’d known from the beginning that Paul wasn’t right for her, but she missed the sparkle of the ring on her finger.A smile flickered over her full lips. Maybe I am my mother’s daughter, she thought with just a hint of self-mockery. Mom was still in Vegas, still bouncing from one man to another, always trusting her new man to take care of her, buy her pretty things. Lille didn’t understand her and probably never would. She’d gotten in touch with her mom several years after she’d run away—she’d tracked her down with the help of a private investigator—and discovered that her father had beaten her mother to within an inch of her life right after Lille had fled, and then he’d been sent back to prison.
