One

      Holly Shay didn’t believe in signs.

      But as she tossed Devon’s and Marshall’s dirty clothes on top of the hamper, her wedding band, loose after she’d dropped the last of her baby weight, slipped off her finger and went flying across the room. Two carats of flawless princess-cut diamonds hit the wall at high velocity, leaving a dimple in the paint, and landed with a clunk on the nursery floor.

      Maybe someone was trying to tell her something. That it was time to take it off. At this point she didn’t have much choice.

      The idea of hocking the ring broke her heart, but she had only a few weeks to find a new apartment. She had no job and not a penny to her name. Only after Jeremy’s death last month had she learned of the considerable debt he’d sunk them into over the course of their ten-month marriage. She would be paying off his debts for many years to come.

      But that’s what addicts did, or so she had been told. If she had only known she could have helped him. It still astounded her that she had been so blind. She’d known deep down that something wasn’t quite right with him. She’d assumed it was the stress of having twin infants. A new marriage—especially the shotgun variety—was a challenge in itself, but toss a high-risk pregnancy, then fragile preemies into the mix and things could get dicey. The boys had been born a month early and had had to spend nearly two weeks in the NICU. When they finally had come home it had been with machines to monitor their breathing and heart rate. It had taken a toll on them both.

      But it wasn’t until after Jeremy overdosed that she’d put the pieces of the puzzle together. Only then did she recognize the signs. She had been stupidly and irresponsibly blinded by love, by the fantasy of the perfect family she had always dreamed of having. When would she learn that for some people the happily-ever-after would never come? It just wasn’t in the game plan.

      It could have been so much worse. Holly had lost both her parents when she was a child, but she had been one of the lucky ones. Orphaned ten-year-olds typically were difficult to place in the foster care system, but she had been taken in by a really nice couple with two other foster kids. There never had been much money, but the essentials always had been covered. She’d had a hot meal every night, decent clothes on her back and someone to help with her homework. And though she and her foster siblings all lived at opposite ends of the country now, and her foster parents had retired to Florida, they still emailed and texted on a semi-regular basis. But it wasn’t the same as having a real family.

      The last pinkish whispers of dusk filtered through the blinds as Holly gazed down into the matching cribs at her sleeping sons. An overwhelming feeling of love filled the chambers of her heart. She’d never known it was possible to feel such an intense connection to another person. She would hands down give her life for them.

      They would be three months old tomorrow, meaning Jeremy had been gone almost a month now. It broke her heart that they would never know their father. Her marriage