18 NoraNora drew deep on her smoke.
Relishing the buzz, she moved her hand away from her mouth. She rested her wrist on the window sill so the ash end was outside.
A pleasant breeze tickled her fingers. It was a warm May evening.
When she’d gotten back to the studio apartment at five-thirty, she’d changed into cut-off jeans and a turquoise tank top.
She shifted on the gold-colored ladderback chair and surveyed the space that had been her home for more than a decade.
She’d been twenty-five years old when she moved into this narrow studio. Excited, because she’d live alone for the first time in her life. Compared to the prison cell she’d shared with Winnie, the place was huge.
This room had suited her perfectly for years.
But it didn’t any longer.
The big cartons stacked three high o
