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A mixture of awe, disbelief, enlightenment, and grief washing over her, Kacey Carlisle poured over her great-great-grandmother’s pension claim records. The ancient handwriting was almost illegible in places yet it was clear—her grandfather, August, hadn’t left his wife and family as the descendants had believed all these years. Her grandmother, Emma, had kicked him out.
Emma had sworn under deposition she’d feared for her life after August had returned home from the Civil War, physically and mentally ill. Other acquaintances had also testified under oath that August had suffered from crazy spells, that he’d thought spirits were chasing him. Others claimed August believed Emma to have been unfaithful. For sure, he’d been a tortured soul.
Kacey’s head spun so she took another sip of her soda as she tried to make sense of her readings. Clearly, there were two sides. Still, she sympathised with Emma. Her own husband, Heath, while not insane or abusive, had been ignoring her for a long time and so her thoughts had turned more and more to divorce. It broke her heart, but she could no longer deny it. Heath had fallen out of love with her. If she paraded naked before him, he’d only tell her to quit acting silly and stop blocking the TV.
Oh, yeah. She empathised with her ancestor. Men could be real shits. Who needed them?
Her heart cracked a little more. Who was she fooling? She still loved her husband, desperately, madly. Insanely. At least, they didn’t have kids who would get hurt.
Miffed at herself, she chewed her lower lip. So it would seem she was insane, too. Who would hang on when the situation was so hopeless?
Only a crazy person. Maybe she’d inherited Grandpa August’s crazy streak.
”It’s late. Come to bed,” Heath muttered on a growl. Barefoot, he padded through the hall and scowled at her. He scrubbed the heel of his hand over the beginnings of new stubble on his chin. “I’ll lose my job if you keep me awake all night. I won’t be able to function at work tomorrow.”