EMMA
"You look like you've just run from the devil." A teasing voice came from behind me. "Don't tell me you've been sparring with Mrs. Hoskins again."
I glanced over my shoulder, smiling at the slender young woman who was curled on a chaise lounge. Angela Spencer wore a long cotton dress with a huge hoodie over it. She'd told me yesterday that even the softest sweats or yoga pants chafed her back since she'd lost weight over the course of her illness, so she'd defaulted to what she called granny house dresses. From the size of it, I guessed that her hoodie belonged to her husband.
"Not so much sparring today." I sat down in the chair across from Angela. "And if you heard about that, I'm guessing your husband tattled on me."
She grinned. "I wouldn't call it tattling so much as a ful
