14
On Monday morning, Rachel woke to bright sunshine. She’d slept six hours at the motel. Slept like the dead, which was ironic. No nightmares, no waking up to trembling and tears, no headache. Then she’d driven home without incident, eaten some scrambled eggs on toast, and slept another ten hours.
The woman in her mirror this morning looked totally different to the woman of yesterday. There was nothing visible to say she’d been right to the edge. Nothing visible to let others know she was only here today because of a tyre blowout. Nothing visible of the new scars on her heart.
David Jones hadn’t changed at all. Why had she expected it would? The new manager started in a week, but today everything was normal.
Alice drifted over to Rachel’s counter at mid-morning. “Things are a little b
