Chapter Fourteen
I woke the next morning with a shirt covered in sweat, a head full of worry, and a body sore and aching in places I forgot I had. Running isn't something I do unless someone is chasing me. My body had several complaints to register about the previous night's effort. Maybe I should reconsider that fitness thing.
I changed shirts in the car, then grabbed my bag and headed for the coffee shop across the lot from the train station. I ordered a coffee and a danish. Washed up in their restroom. While I ate, I watched the morning commuters file in on their way to work, and file out again, most without looking up from their phones. Soccer moms pulled up to the curb in their suburban assault vehicles. Middle-aged men in their mid-life crisis sports cars. Pretty twenty-somethings
