Ryan.
Wearing a white linen shirt.
Expensive cologne.
And Ashley hanging onto his arm like a newlywed bride.
Ashley leaned toward him.
“What’s wrong, babe?”
Ryan’s face had gone pale.
“It’s Valerie.”
Ashley blinked.
“Your wife?”
The line of passengers behind them kept moving.
People wanted to board.
Nobody knew they were witnessing the beginning of a disaster.
I looked at Ashley’s hand gripping my husband’s arm.
