It was beautiful out here. So calm and peaceful.

And yet apprehension fluttered in Nella’s heart.

Where are the children?

Except for an overturned tricycle in the dense shade of a cedar tree and a tiny, forgotten sneaker at the top of the steps, the place looked immaculate.

Baskets of ferns hung from the porch rafters, and the lawn was painted with patches of red and yellow four-o’clocks and pink peonies.

Nella couldn’t imagine how her cousin managed to keep everything so orderly, especially now that her husband had left her. According to Nella’s mother, he’d just up and walked out months ago, leaving Mary Alice to fend for herself and the children.

Thank goodness she had a small inheritance from her father to fall back on, but that wouldn’t last long, what with feeding and clothing five little ones. Nella worried how her cousin would cope once the money ran out.

I should have come sooner. She’s my own flesh and blood, and I couldn’t be bothered to drive out here and lend a helping hand.

But she and Mary Alice hadn’t been close in years, not since the summer Nella had come home from her first year at LSU to find her cousin engaged to Charles Lemay, a dark, taciturn man fifteen years her senior.

Charles was extremely handsome, Nella would give him that. And she supposed there were some who might even consider him charming. But the way he’d flattered and cajoled and later browbeat a besotted Mary Alice had disgusted Nella.

And then the babies had started coming, some barely a year apart. Throughout her pregnancies, even the difficult ones, Mary Alice had worked like a dog caring for the house and children and making sure her husband was properly pampered.

Charles had put the family on a rigid schedule—dinner on the table by six and bedtime at eight, except on nights when they all attended church service together.