Hannah felt uneasy as she moved through the back door into the house that felt strangely familiar. It was like moving through a dream, and the feeling of déjà vu was making her head hurt.
She recognized the scent of the house in the same way she recognized the scent of the blond woman with the pregnant belly. It stirred something deep in her memory bank, a flitting shadow that she couldn’t quite grasp. But some inner knowledge, some instinct told her that Daisy was okay. And the house, which still smelled faintly like bacon and maple syrup, was also a safe place.
She looked around the kitchen wide eyed, at the things that seemed both foreign and familiar at the same time. There was a big cook stove with double ovens, the big silver refrigerator, the recessed closet that served as
