She supposed Wade would be out celebrating with his bright and spiffy-looking associate in the advertising agency. And she was alive-alive and well and back in the murky dating pool of singles. If that were true she’d be dead at twenty-six. Till death do us part, she thought grimly, and sipped some wine. She hadn’t been married to Wade in anything but the most technical, legal sense for two years, almost as long as they’d been husband and wife.īut the paper made it all so final, so much more so than the arguments and tears, the separation, the lawyers’ fees and legal maneuvers. It was foolish to think that way, and she knew it. The legal paper that would change her from Kelsey Monroe back to Kelsey Byden, from married woman to single, from half of a couple to a divorcée. The packet she knew contained her divorce decree. It was the packet from her attorney that had shaken her. She didn’t need the drink to face the slim letter, or the junk mail, the bills, the cheery postcard from a friend enjoying a quick trip to the Caribbean. She would sip it slowly, she told herself, before she opened her mail. She went into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine.

So ordinary she had simply stacked it with her other mail on the old Belker table under her living-room window while she slipped out of her shoes.

The creamy stationery, the neatly handwritten name and address, and the Virginia postmark seemed ordinary enough. WHEN SHE PULLED THE LETTER FROM HER MAILBOX, KELSEY HAD NO warning it was from a dead woman.

True betrayals by nora roberts