Annabella threw open the curtains, sunlight washing over her. The trees were covered in velvety buds and the grass green. Flowers sprouted. Not a flake of snow was visible.
She danced around her room, humming a paean about the arrival of spring. In the kitchen, she grabbed her purse and keys, throwing the front door open. Her voice died, the keys slipping through her fingers. Dirty snow piled on her car and pushed against the sides. She whirled around.
Trent stood at attention, fighting a smile. “All right, honey, I’ll clean your car off.”