It was Christmas Eve with the circle of advent candles burning low in a pool of wax when Cee left the dinner table without saying goodbye. It was the season of expectations and family dinners, but disappointment and remembrance of things past crept through the gathering like a child on the stairs. Her name was Cecelia but everyone called her Cee. With a wind whistling down from Canada at a chill factor of minus ten, she peeled out of the...
