Chapter 8
RILEY’S SHOES WERE SOPPING. They’d rubbed blisters on her heels and the instep of one foot. The hems of her pants had mostly dried, but in the heavy, humid air inside the pharmacy, everything felt damp and sticky. Exhausted, heartsick, she methodically counted the boxes of ruined over-the-counter allergy meds and marked the tally down on the inventory sheet before she added them to a bag for proper disposal.
It seemed like half the town had sprung into action at Liam’s call for help. But it wasn’t enough. Everything was falling apart.
Above her, the ceiling gaped open, the occasional drip of water hitting her shoulders and head like spittle from some kind of hellmouth. The variable-width wood floors, original to the century-old building, were warped and buckled. Though water n
