“And you’re sure it wasn’t your dad in disguise?” Curran asked. “Yes. The eyes were different.” My husband crossed his arms. “How long did you gaze into his eyes, exactly?” “About three seconds, while I waited for him to speak.” I pointed my teaspoon at him. “I know what you’re thinking. Stop thinking it.” Julie kept a straight face, but her eyes laughed at me from above the rim of her cup. Derek appeared stoic. “What am I supposed to think? First, someone sends you a red rose.” “And a knife. And a box full of ash.” “Exactly. Is it a threat? Is it a conditional declaration of war?” I shrugged.
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