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meet with a lawyer today, which he’d initially rejected as overkill.
    â€œShe left us with no more than a note,” he’d pointed out bitterly, “in which she granted me full undisputed custody of our daughter. And all this time later you think she’s had a change of heart and came back to Mimosa to fight me for Faith?” He couldn’t picture that. In the short time Pamela Jo had lived with them, she’d had to be bullied into even holding the baby.
    â€œShe was a scared kid,” Leigh had replied. It was the single most empathetic statement she’d ever uttered about his ex. “I mean, so were you, that’s no excuse, and she was horrible and selfish, but one assumes she might have regretted her actions since then. We don’t know anything about what her last couple of years have been like. What if she’s settled down and tried to have kids, but can’t? What if she thinks Faith is her last chance at motherhood?”
    Screw that.
Pamela Jo forfeited any such chance a long time ago. And she was crazy if she thought to drag Faith through some sort of custody battle or belated “Mommy’s home now, darling!” movie-of-the-weekmoment. Despite his sister’s well-meaning suggestion of hiring legal counsel, Nick favored a more direct approach.
    One that centered around figuring out where Pamela Jo was staying, then running her out of town on a rail.

Chapter Three
    Shortly after nine in the morning, Pam’s prepaid cell phone rang. The only reason she was still in bed was misplaced optimism. She hadn’t managed to get any sleep the night before but kept hoping that, any minute now, slumbering oblivion would be hers.
    â€œHi, Annabel.” She’d known who was on the other end before she even pressed “accept call.” No one but her sponsor had the number. The phone had been a parting gift.
A reminder that you’re not alone,
Annabel had said when she’d hugged Pam goodbye. Given how early it was on the west coast, Annabel was probably just now getting out of bed for her morning run before work.
    â€œD’you make it through the night?” Annabel asked without preamble. “I’ve been worrying about you ever since you called last night. That was a hell of a lot dropped on you.”
    â€œTell me about it.” Pam felt like some hapless cartoon character with a big hole through her middle where a cannonball had been fired. “But, yeah, I made it through. Booze-free.”
    One might assume that was a perk of being near broke—not having the funds to fall off the wagon—butthere had been a few years in her past when she simply would have undone a couple of top buttons, made her way to Wade’s Watering Hole and struck up a conversation until some guy bought her a drink or two. Or six. She fought back a ripple of shame with the reminder that she’d been sober eight months and counting. She clenched trembling fingers into a fist.
Never again.
    â€œI’m a little shaky right now,” Pam admitted, “but that’s from lack of sleep.”
    â€œAnd the announcement that your mother is dead,” Annabel said with brutal honestly. “
And
the news that your ex-husband and child are somewhere in the vicinity. Don’t downplay what you’re going through. You have a right to be angry and upset and conflicted.”
    â€œI’m not in denial, I’m just numb.” Plus she was too exhausted to muster the energy for hysterics. She’d driven so far over the last few days, fueled by caffeine and a kind of grim eagerness. Having made the decision to confront Mae, she’d wanted to get it over with and, whatever happened between them, move on from there a healthier person. “I haven’t had much rest lately.”
    â€œI won’t keep you then,” Annabel said. “When were you planning to see your aunt and uncle?”
    â€œI’m going to call them after