Chapter 7Allison wasted no time putting the rash plan into effect. First thing in the morning, she hurried into a warm woolen dress and raced down the stairs with the finesse of an overly-excited child.
“Allison,” her mother called from the kitchen, “are you all right? Do you want any breakfast?” The scent of coffee accompanying the words made her pause.
No. Too much is at stake. No time to dawdle. “Sorry, Mom. I have to get to work,” she replied, deliberately cryptic. Then she hurried out the door before any further arguments could be offered. Or any further discussion, she added to herself. I have no intention of telling them what I have planned until it's irrevocable.
She turned left onto Main Street and headed south toward the church, straight into a blast of cool—though no longer i
