"I came to ask you one thing," Olivia whispered.
Olivia's hand went to her pocket—no weapon, just an old key. Jane's key. The one to the cottage where they'd spent one summer learning each other's silences. olivia would jane wilde
"Go on."
"They say you died, Jane. Three years ago. Fell through ice. No body. Just a hole in the river and a scarf on a branch." "I came to ask you one thing," Olivia whispered
"Define still ."