Another Excerpt for The House on Hancock Hill.

I was at home considering what to make for dinner, deciding I wasn’t really hungry, when my phone rang. The now-familiar flare of hope that it might be Henry made itself known but time had subdued it. I recognized the heartache was becoming muted, and while I suspected the pain would probably never really go away, I welcomed the numbness. There’d been a time when I thought I’d rather cling to missing Henry than not have him at all, but that was before it felt like opening my eyes to face a ne...