A Bloody Gingerbread for Christmas
My husband, Liam Caldwell, took our daughter Sophie and his on-again, off-again high school sweetheart, Chloe Vance, to the Rocky Mountains for Christmas.
For Chloe's sake, he abandoned our little girl along the way.
While I feared a bear was mauling her, I couldn't reach him.
When I arrived, the car window was shattered—all that remained was a single gingerbread man, stained with blood.
As I drowned in grief, Liam finally answered his phone. "It's Christmas Eve. Stop being such a killjoy."
I sneered internally. Happy holidays.
I should send you a bloody gingerbread man.
Maybe then you'll feel some real “holiday spirit.”