Chapter 8
The odor in the small motel lobby reminded Thia of the moldy shed at her grandmother’s house, where she was sent to retrieve various gardening tools when she was a child. She had been afraid of the dark, dank lean-to, but even more afraid of her grandmother.
The motel lobby held two stained chairs that formed a half square in the middle of the floor. The worn rug looked as if it hadn’t been vacuumed in a year. Clashing curtains topped with a layer of dust shielded the musty room from the glare of the neon sign outside. One bright light shone above the registration counter, casting gloomy shadows over the rest of the small lobby. A grinning jack-o’-lantern that sat next to an outmoded computer monitor greeted her from the edge of the counter.
“Can I help you?” The speaker was a
