Chapter 8
ON MONDAY MORNING, ANIKA WOKE at six-thirty with stiff muscles. She looked out the window and smiled. Who said two feet of snow was such a bad thing? She had taken Megan out to play and started shoveling one of the elderly neighbor’s driveway down the street. When the woman offered to pay, Anika had refused, but at the widow’s insistence she’d finally accepted and then been hired to shovel the next house. She’d shoveled both of their walks twice and pulled in an extra twenty-five dollars over the weekend. The gray clouds held a promise of more snow, but not enough to shovel again today. That was probably a good thing because Anika’s back was sore. She stretched out on the floor and lengthened her spine.
She made a list of the things she needed to pick up at the grocery store be
