CHAPTER TEN
The Fat Kid's ProblemLeilah lay on the ragged sofa in the lounge, watching flames crackle in the grate. Hector stirred the kindling and glared into the flickering tongues of light. “I’m cold,” she complained and he looked over his shoulder and nodded.
“That’s why I’m wasting good wood on a summer’s day,” he grumbled. Leilah pressed the cool flannel over her cheek and closed her eyes. He muttered to himself about the aborted visit to the Donnelly’s farm, stopped in his tracks by their stockmen. “Waste of b****y gas!” he complained. “Weaklings hiding behind paid muscle.”
“I’m off,” Mari said, placing a hand over Leilah’s forehead. “Stop muttering about the Donnellys, Hec. They just lost a child. The doctor said to keep Leilah quiet for today. No television or reading.” Her eye
