Out of the open arched bedroom window, Francesca whispered, ”I haven't talked to you in a while. But I wanted to tell you that I love you. I think of you every day and miss you more than words. If you can hear me, then you've probably seen what a mess I am. I know it may look like I'm moving on, but I'm just moving. If I stop, I may be the person I was right after the accident. I can't be her again."
She pushed at her lower eyelids, and Sloane reached for her.
"I'm almost out of your perfume. I thought maybe it had been you who'd opened it before. I'm thinking about ordering a new one to sit in with your books. Is that weird?"
Sloane shook her head. "No, that's why I sprayed it for you," she replied despite it going unheard by Francesca.
Only Molly could have heard her then.
Shaking the wistfulness away, Francesca slammed the old window closed. Fluffing her hair as she often did before entering a new room seemed to give her the confidence needed to walk back into the living room. Mama Nuccio and Cecelia's mother were talking about money. A few words were foreign to Sloane; that annoyed her.
"And what have you come up with?" Francesca put her hand on her hip.
Sloane roamed the house more thoroughly as the women discussed. Francesca was going to buy the house, what else did she need to know?