The car rolls to a stop in front of a newly built brick townhouse. The windows are still void of curtains, allowing passer-by to see inside. Though Greg has lived here for over a week, the rooms remain empty, save for a few boxes strewn about. Together, they are slowly filling the rooms with furniture.      'Our first home together,' she thinks, her eyes resting on the freshly manicured front garden. 'This is a big step and I hadn't realized. Our first home…' She lets her mind wander. Would they be living here after they were married? When they purchased their first pet, and then expanded their family with their first child? A chill runs through her body and she feels goose bumps pop up on her arms. A child. She and Greg would have children together… She shakes her head in amazement. "I guess I really have grown up. I'm not Gramma Plum's little girl anymore," she says aloud.      Gramma Plum. She hadn't allowed herself to really think of her since the funeral. That day had been marred by Wayne, of course. When she had seen him walking into the chapel, his beautiful wife on his arm, she felt as if her heart would permanently be torn in half - two jagged fragments that would manage to keep beating, manage to keep her alive somehow. She looks at her hands still resting on the steering wheel, and allows herself to remember that day and the woman she was supposed to honour. 'She was evil,' she thinks. 'She was evil and I didn't know it, but she--it--someone told me. And I just believed. Maybe I don't believe anymore. She loved me and I always knew that.'      She swallows hard, surprised to find tears forming in her eyes, swelling in the back of her throat.      She glances up and sees Greg peer out the window, his face lighting up when he sees her car. She smiles, watching him bound out of the house like an overgrown puppy. 'Now is not the time for this,' she thinks, once again pushing her memories away. 'Later.'