Angela plopped a bouquet of peppermint carnations in a glass vase on Christina’s desk. “What’s the occasion this time? Another non-fight?” Christina huffed into her bangs. “Maybe Jeff’s funeral has just been postponed.” She snatched the little card from the holder. It read—I’m an idiot. Please forgive me. Jeff. Angela came around the desk to read over her shoulder. “Does this mean he’s off the hook?” “I honestly do not know.