Abby Winters’ kitchen smelled of rosemary and regret.
“This island is beautiful,” Clara said, running her fingers along the grain. “Did you build it?” abby winters kitchen
Best, Abby Winters
Abby wiped her hands on her apron—a ridiculous thing printed with cartoon avocados—and walked to the kitchen doorway. There stood a woman in a navy peacoat, snow melting in her dark curls, holding a foil-covered pie dish like a shield. Abby Winters’ kitchen smelled of rosemary and regret
Maybe it was the place where people finally stayed. ” Clara said