Tim used to be so thoughtful about getting presents. I’m sure whatever he got me is going to be wonderful. I gently pry the lid off the box—a gold necklace is nestled inside, resting on a little square of cotton. I pick up the necklace, holding it up until I can see the charm hanging off the gold chain. It’s a snowflake. I drop the necklace like it’s made of acid. I think I’m going to be sick. It’s the same kind of snowflake necklace that I used to wear years ago. The same kind of snowflake necklace that Shane tried to strangle me with a decade earlier. I jump up from the table so quickly that
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