Death is cold. I would have been a beautiful woman by now. But when a body turns to dust before its time—when the mold is broken early—the spirit, like a casting, takes the mold’s last form. Though my awareness has grown, I retain the likeness by which I was last known: a girl of six years. My soul has not passed over because I have not yet let it. I have grown and have learned to become patient. I am patiently awaiting my passing over, but I must have one thing before I am swept away by Elijah’s fiery chariots. I must have vengeance. The wind outside moans through the trees, telling me that my time is coming. It warns me to be careful, that vengeance is cold, too, and empty. But how can anyone trust the wind? Nobody knows where it comes from, or where it goes. Vengeance will bemine. Kelsea Stone can’t remember her childhood, and frankly, she doesn’t really care. She’s doing fine on her own in L.A. without any family to tie her down. But when she finds out her estranged birth parents have died and left her their house in Canaan Valley, West Virginia, she discovers more than just an inheritance waiting for her in the mountains.
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