It’s been over an hour since Mack took Adela to the hospital. In that time, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Mostly while out in the garden.
I’ve thought about Mack, Adela, Bennett, and my baby. But most of all, I’ve been thinking about Mack.
Winter Lake was only ever supposed to be a place I could stop running for a while and figure out what my next steps would be.
I was tired of the motels, and tired of my life.
But for a few days, I wasn’t anymore. I caught up on my sleep; I ate more than I have since I left the Dacre pack. I read, I failed at gardening, and I learned to laugh.
My eyes go to the freshly turned soil where Mack and I failed at gardening together, and I want to cry again, even though I know I need to stop. Soon Mack will be back and then I’ll leave. Forever.
On the
