This was it. Time to get this off her chest—at least some of it—once and for all. “You knew I grew up in Indiana,” she said, leaning back against the wall and letting her thoughts wander back in time, an indulgence she rarely allowed herself. “But I’ve never told you much about my childhood. My family.” “No,” Missy murmured. “Well, as wealthy as your family was? Is, I should say. Mine was on the other end of the spectrum.” “I’ve met your mom and dad,” Missy said, confusion on her face. “They seemed…middle-class.” “You met my stepdad,” Sarah said. A few years back, when Brian was too small to take care of himself, her mom and stepdad had driven to Mirabelle to help with Brian during a particularly busy wedding season. “My real dad died when I was ten.” “I’m sorry, Sarah. I didn’t know.” “It’s okay.” It really wasn’t, but maybe talking about him might help. Sarah’s real father had been the only bright spot in an otherwise dreary childhood, and she still missed him with a vengeance.
