Happy people are never lonely. That’s what he said. Casey laughed, abruptly stopped, and glanced over at her summertime friend Joy who sat on the floor, fingering an ancient brass candelabrum. The candlelight flashed across her freckled young face—

A poison bouquet of Merlot and brown floor muck bloomed in Seth’s nose. It’s one thing to sniff a freshly decanted red and another thing to shower in it.