Sarah Eisenboch

It wasn't the song "The Coldest Night of the Year" that was going around and around in Sarah Eisenboch's brain, plaguing her thoughts night and day. It was the memory of the frigid night she literally gave the boot to a pile of dirty rags outside her downtown Ottawa condo. To her horror, a human form had risen from the mass then limped away and disappeared into a nearby alley. The dark eyes that had momentarily captured hers continued to haunt her.

A wealthy, kind-hearted philanthropist, she was dev­as­tated by the thought she had sent a homeless human being into a bitterly cold January night - maybe even to his death. She made it her mission to track him down and make amends.

But life kept getting in the way. "Things" kept placing obstacles before her: a badly timed Florida vacation, a family tragedy, falling hopelessly in love, a granddaughter who needed her. Still ... that unfortunate figure and his poignant dark eyes kept reappearing. Not just in her dreams but in the shadows and doorways around her.

Who was he? She wasn't aware the answer was only a gunshot away.