My Husband Lowered His Head Beside My Coffin and Pretended to Mourn. His Mistress Sat in the Front Row Dressed in Black. They Exchanged Quiet, Satisfied Smiles as If They Had Already Won. Neither of Them Realized That the Woman They Were Burying Was About to Walk Back Into Their Lives.

The first thing Ava Marlowe felt after her body struck the gravel beside the interstate was not fear.

It was heat.

The brutal heat of a June afternoon rising from the pavement and pressing against her skin.

Then came pain.

Then confusion.