Becky turned to steal one last glance at the Kings’ property. Paul had disappeared, but his wife, Mary Elizabeth, stood on the porch and stared at them, clutching something to her chest. A light breeze ruffled the Amish woman’s long dress. A whisper of something—nostalgia, déjà vu, relief, maybe?—made Becky tremble as a vision of what most certainly would have been her future flashed before her eyes. But it wasn’t her life. She had broken up with Paul. She had left the Amish, her family.
Yet, still, on this sweltering day, she couldn’t help but feel shadows of her past stretching out to claim her.
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