Book Two.."Rosabelle checked her lipstick in the little sunshine-yellow Mini Cooper's rearview mirror. She glanced at her red-tipped nose then met her eyes in the frost-rimmed glass. "Not too bad, Rosie," she said under her breath."Rosie, babe. C'mon, I gotta roll." Miles rapped his knuckles hard against the passenger side window and widened his eyes at Rosabelle, stomping his feet in the packed snow and blowing into his red hands."I told you to let me pull in first. It's your own fault. And who taught you how to shovel a driveway? It's going to be a sheet of ice when we get back tonight.""What? Roll the window down, Rosie. I can't hear you."Rosabelle sighed and cracked the window. "Never mind. I'll see you tonight? Don't forget, my parents will be here, so please behave.""Aw, c'mon babe, you know I'll--""Behave, Miles. I mean it. And do me a favor?"Miles stomped again and huffed into his cold hands. "Anything you want, if you promise to move it.""Say it again.""What," asked Miles blankly. Then, dawning crossed his face and he grinned. "Fine. I... love... you. I LOVE you, Rosie. Happy now?""Completely. I love you, too. And I love my necklace. It's perfect."Mile gave his aw-shucks grin and blew her a kiss. "See you tonight, babe. Now please back out so I can get to work. Oh, and I need you to--"Rosabelle closed the window as he spoke, laughing at his indignation. The old Rosabelle would've hung on his every word and jumped at his command. However, the new Rosabelle would not. The new Rosabelle Waterman was loved by and in love with the man of her dreams. She was confident, secure, and strong. That's what she told her reflection every morning in the bathroom mirror when she felt anxious, which she did as she backed out onto Dogwood Drive and drove toward Chance Public Library. Today, Rosabelle Waterman would be finalizing the last details of her first ever solo art exhibit, happening in March. She'd done several shows, where'd she'd been one of many, but this was all her. Fourteen paintings, various sizes, subjects, and mediums on display for all to see. And judge. And criticize. And--"No, Rosie. A positive mind brings about positive results. You've got this. You are as talented as anyone else. You deserve this. All will go well. Breathe."Rosabelle inhaled sharply through her nose, counted to four, then exhaled slowly as she counted to eight. After doing this three times, she decided she felt much better and even managed a shaky smile.The roads had been plowed overnight but a fine layer of fresh snow coated the macadam, making it slick and dangerous. Rosabelle was grateful she listened to Ricky Baker about putting on snow tires last week. Just in the nick of time, too. The first snowfall of the season, two weeks before Christmas. It was far from her favorite time of the year--she missed her flower garden--but it was her favorite holiday. And this would be her first one with a boyfriend. They'd yet to refer to each other as boyfriend or girlfriend in public or change their Facebook statuses to 'In a Relationship,' but they had said those three little words this morning. That told her everything she needed to know about the status of their relationship.The Little Drummer Boy began and Rosabelle looked down to turn up the volume. The moment she did, the Mini Cooper began to slide. Her heart jumped, but her father's voice rang in her mind. Pump the brakes, sweet pea. Just pump 'em, don't mash 'em. Atta girl."All good. It's all good. " That's what Miles would've said right then.Her heart rate steadied, and she started to sing along in earnest with David Bowie. The light up ahead at the intersection of Elm and Old Maine gave her the green to go straight through. Rosabelle saw in her peripheral a dark mass moving toward her. There was a sound--high and screech-like--that she couldn't place until it was too late.