Sins That Haunt by Lucy Farago

to tour the kitchen. It had been the highlight of the trip. Not that she’d told anyone. Everyone had secrets, she more than others. But wishing she could cook, the urge to wear an apron and cook food, that would give her the same satisfaction as eating Josh’s stew, was her biggest secret.
    â€œHow was it?” Josh asked.
    â€œCan I have more bread?” she answered, wagging her eyebrows. Nothing said I love it like sopping up the gravy.
    He fetched another basket of fresh buns and poured her more wine. At the end of the meal she returned upstairs stuffed and woozy from her second glass of wine and lack of sleep. The sun had finally set and the room was pitched in darkness. Crawling into bed, she pretended she was back in Vegas and fell asleep.

Chapter Seven
    S hannon woke with a start and instantly realized she wasn’t in her own bed. For starters, she saw the sun. And, more importantly, she could smell something deliciously sweet. The guys were at it again. She glanced at her phone. Seven a.m. She remembered reading they served two breakfasts on Sunday, one before service, one after. Which meant the locals popped by to eat. As she didn’t feel like being trapped in her room all day, she showered and decided to disappear until it was safe to return. Problem was, where to?
    Once in her car she just drove, and when she’d stopped, she surprised herself. The familiar dilapidated office stood where it always had, at the entrance to her old trailer park. She could blame it on automatic pilot, her brain remembering the route to what had once been home, but she’d left Tweedsmuir long before she had her license. Closure. That was it.
    Most of the people who’d lived here were good, honest folks. Unlike JJ. So she never wanted to say she was better than this place. That would make her as bad as the good townspeople calling her trash. Not having money didn’t make you less worthy. Oh, they’d pretended to be the good Christian people Reverend Hopewell had beseeched them to be. But the glares they threw her way when she and Maggie hung out, the disapproving shakes of their heads, the way they’d ask Maggie if her father knew where she was, said otherwise. Like being with Shannon was breaking a rule.
    Sure, once in a while she and Maggie got into trouble, but it was nothing other kids didn’t do. Only it was Maggie, and she was spending time with that girl. Of course it never helped when JJ blew into town with loud cars and bad spending. Maybe if he hadn’t acted like some big shot, the townspeople wouldn’t have gossiped about where he’d gotten his money and why he wasn’t using it to take care of his family. She’d wanted to tell the good people of Tweedsmuir that JJ just didn’t give a damn. She’d wanted to tell JJ to go to hell. But her mother hated confrontation. She grew very agitated at the slightest disturbance. The woman didn’t have much, including her sanity so Shannon kept the peace and always went along quietly with JJ, her mother oblivious to what the man made Shannon do.
    She got out of the car, her shoes crunching on the stone driveway leading up to Wilbur’s, the old guy who used to run the place. Maggie had learned he’d packed it up and moved to Florida with his daughter. She opened the screen door, but no one was inside. The park was quiet, people either in church or hung over from the night before. It was like that here: the good and those that didn’t give a shit.
    Her mother no longer lived in the trailer park. Years earlier, Shannon had arranged to move her to a complex in a great community just outside of Boston. There were nurses on staff and they would report back to Mrs. Hopewell should her mom go off her meds. Even the money she wired for her care went through Maggie’s mom. Emma Lewis lived in her own little world, one with JJ still in it. Shannon had no idea why the son of a bitch hadn’t left the