Chapter Twenty-five 

“Sarah! That’s twice in a year you’ve come to this door. You’ll have to be careful you don’t start making it a habit, not that I mind. Come in.”

“Thank you, but this isn’t exactly a social call. We need to talk, Ben. Are you free?” 

Sarah had questioned herself for the entire drive over to Ben's house and had almost turned back more than once. 

“Sure, take a seat. What’s wrong? You look like shit, I'm afraid to say.”

Forcing a laugh, she sat down on the leather sofa and pulled in a deep breath. Her stomach was tied up in more knots than Fort Knox had locks and nervous nausea was rising in her throat.

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