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Quinn smiled and said, “Oh, yeah?”

“Their first home was in a field of wildflowers. It was nice: a little one-room cabin that they built together. Then, the world started getting smaller and smaller around them. When Edward showed up, acting like the dick that he was, they had to run again, but I feel like they landed somewhere else and probably stayed there until they died.”

“How old were they when you last saw them?”

Abby thought back in her mind and did some math.

“In their early thirties. I don’t know how old Frances was, but Agnes would’ve been thirty-two, I think.”

“People didn’t live very long then, so maybe they madeit wherever they were going and lived out the rest of their lives together.”

Abby smiled and said, “Yeah, maybe. I hope so, anyway.”

“Where was it? It wasn’t America, was it?”

“I got the impression that they weren’t here, and it was pretty early in America’s history. They were Caucasian, in my mind, at least, but that’s hard because they look like us to me, so I don’t really know for sure. I’d say maybe somewhere in England, but I never hear accents or other languages. Do you?”

“No. Always English and never any accents. Maybe it’s so we can understand the visions and the voices.”

“Maybe,” she replied, and before she could reach for coffee, Quinn took the carafe and poured it for her. “You’re like this in every version of you.”

“I’m like what?” Quinn asked.

“You always want to take care of me.”

“I thought we already talked about how I’m the stud in this relationship.” Quinn winked at her.

“Relationship, huh?”

“Oh, don’t go acting like you’re not already my girlfriend, Abs. We can pretend to just date, if you’re scared of calling yourself that – it’s okay – but I’m not going to date anyone else, and I don’t think you’re going to, either. So, yeah, we’re in a relationship.”

“Well, thanks for telling me,” Abby joked.

“You knew already, Abs. You knew this was going to happen the moment you walked into my shop and saw me behind the counter, didn’t you?”

“I knew you were hot.” She shrugged. “Don’t get a big head about it.”

Quinn laughed and said, “I want to do this right, babe. I had a great time last night. I don’t want us to skip any parts because we’ve been together before, you know?”

“So, you want another date with your new girlfriend?” Abby asked and took a sip of her coffee.

“Yeah, I do. Tonight?”

“I can do tonight. I’ll probably be figuring out how to write two books at once until then because my brain can’t process anything other than Deb and Harriet’s and Cheryl and Diana’s stories.”

“What about Agnes and Frances?”

“I don’t think I’m going to get anything more from them. At least, not right now. I want to go back to Deb and Harriet, though, and not just because my publisher is waiting for more pages.”

Quinn leaned forward and asked, “Hey, I was thinking about something when I was making coffee this morning. How did the book that Cheryl and Diana wrote together end up in a farmhouse owned by Deb and Harriet? I haven’t seen anything more of them to know. Have you?”

“No. The last I saw of them was when they visited here and saw Paul. It looked like they just left town after that, but I didn’t see that part, exactly.”

“Then, they had to have come back here at some point. Or, they’d seen Paul again, at least, and he’d put it there in the box. The realtor said that it was in the attic or something, if I remember right. It was with the other–”

“What?”

“Babe, there were more photos. Some were solid black because they were old or not taken care of, but there were more than the two you took. I got excited about the book last night, but–”