No! It wasn’t possible. She died in my arms three years ago. I promised her I would move here to keep our dream alive. Rhonda always wanted us to come to Hollywood, she thought our writing was good enough. Me, I had my doubts. Still do. Wish I believed in us the way she did. Than maybe she’s still be here, and not on the wrong end of a drive-by shooting.
But the woman across the street looked so much like Rhonda it sent a shiver up my spine. Was this a sign telling me not to give up? To keep believing in what we started? She had confidence in me that I never had.
I watched out the window as she crossed the street, and stopped in front of my house. She pulled something from her purse, and continued up my walk. I hurried and opened the door.
“Are you Bob Walker?” she asked, smiling.
“Yes,” I said, nodding. “Can I help you?”
She pulled out a card and handed it to me, “I’m Lynn Tray.”
Rhonda’s middle name. Now I know our dream will come true.

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