The morning was hot. It was one of those days when the sun was unforgiving as it threatened to char everything it touched. Standing under the shade of a mango tree did nothing except make Roxie think she was in an oven instead of on the naked flames of a burner.
Josiah shifted on his feet, his small, clammy hand wiggling in her hold as though he just wanted to slip free and run back into the house, where it was cooler. Honestly, Roxie wished she could let him. God knew the boy didn’t deserve to die from heat stroke just to make his father happy.
Sighing, Roxie pulled out her phone and checked the time. Ten-twenty-three. Roxie gritted her teeth. Elias was fifty-three minutes late for his pick up, and she had a feeling he was doing it on purpose. Just another way to make everything that mu
