Rosie had always said she would tell her something after the wedding. What on earth could it have been? And was it related to the explosion?
Moira Irving blinked. She looked at Yara Quillan, who stood before her with her back turned. After a moment of thought, she lowered her head and said, "Yara, why don't you get some rest? I'll come see you tomorrow."
Moira Irving walked to the door and glanced back at Yara Quillan. Not knowing what else to say, she let out a soft sigh, closed the door, and left.
'Even though Yara talks to me and even smiles, I can tell she's just like me—not truly happy.'
Yara Quillan remained in the room alone. She cleared off the desk, took out her notebook, and began to organize all the recent events in chronological order. 'There has to be a clue. Rosie couldn't have left nothing behind.'
