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setbacks.
    Samantha really hated all that self-discovery crap. She’d never really grasped the concept. But now…just maybe…
    “Well then, take what you learned and use it,” Jenny said cheerfully. “I’m worried about you, Samantha. I was hoping your trip back home would help you settle some of the things bothering you.”
    “I’ve only been here a day.”
    “I know. I worry, and it sounds like you haven’t gotten off to a good start. I swear one day you’ll die of a freak heart attack or stroke caused by abnormally high blood pressure or something. You’ve got to learn to deal with things.”
    “You’re starting to sound like Dr. Wade. Please don’t shrink me.” Samantha flattened her back against the cool limestone wall and closed her eyes. Was it her fault that everyone who shared the earth with her was incompetent? And was it her fault that those people made her life miserable?
    Yes.
    Underneath it all, Samantha knew the problem was her. She made her own life miserable by not being compassionate or understanding. She hadn’t quite figured out how to combat her anger with patience and sympathy, and this past year certainly hadn’t helped.
    Her eyes glanced up and down the street, catching sight of couples—young and old—holding hands, laughing, and kissing. The people here looked happy; they looked in love. Cherished. Why couldn’t she feel like that anywhere?
    “Are you sure you’re all right?” Jenny asked, snapping Samantha’s attention back to the present.
    She faked a smile, glad Jenny couldn’t see how pathetic it was. “Yes. Like I said, it’s only been a day. New things take some adjusting. I’ll be fine. I’ll remember my lessons from Dr. Wade, and I’ll work on keeping my blood pressure down.”
    Jenny laughed. “I’d feel better if I knew you weren’t lying through your teeth.”
    “You know me too well.”
    “With your grandmother and everything, how are you going to get your novel finished? You’ve only got what, four weeks or something?”
    Samantha bit her lip. “Two months, actually. But I’m not sure if that’s enough time. I don’t know what I am going to do about that. I have to get it done. My career depends on it, but I can’t worry about that right now. Gram is priority number one. I’ll call you in a few days and let you know how things are going. Talk to you soon.” Samantha clicked the phone off and pushed herself away from the wall.
    She was lucky to have a friend like Jenny, although she was a little jealous of her friend’s sparkling, playful attitude and overall positive outlook on life. Samantha used to be like that. She was well aware she didn’t deserve Jenny’s kindness after how hateful she’d been over the past year, but she hadn’t burned that bridge completely down yet, and she was determined not to let it happen. If anything, she would make everyone, Jenny included, see that the old Samantha was still there, buried deep inside and begging to come out.
    With the key Gram had given her, Samantha unlocked the door to the antique shop and swung it open, prepared for the scent of old leather, greased grandfather clocks, and old china. Samantha froze as she crossed the threshold and caught sight of cluttered, dirty antiques. The faint smell of mold floated in the air, and she almost turned around and ran. Garnering all her will, she took several more steps inside and flicked on the lights.
    For a brief second Samantha thought maybe her grandmother’s store had been ransacked or robbed, but after closer inspection of the trinkets and tables lying about, she found it was only severely neglected. And it smelled awful, like someone hadn’t cleaned in months…or years. Good thing she’d worn old clothes. Well, she’d worn her standard jeans and cotton shirt. Since the clothes had no real value or appeal, they would do fine as she cleaned up the monstrosity Gram’s shop had become. What had happened?
    Samantha guessed that her grandmother