The letter arrives during our honeymoon.
We're in Santorini, Greece. White buildings cascading down cliffs. Blue water stretching to infinity. A world away from New York and trials and everything that tried to break us.
Harper forwards the email. Scanned copy of a letter that arrived at the office. Prison return address.
Should I open it? she texts. Or burn it?
I'm lying on our balcony, sun-warmed and content, when I see the message. Liam's inside making coffee. We have nowhere to be. Nothing to do except exist together in this perfect bubble.
Open it, I text back. Send me a photo.
Five minutes later, the image comes through. Ethan's handwriting. Smaller than I remember. More careful.
Violet,
I know you're on your honeymoon. I know this is terrible timing. But the parole hearing ma
