25 NoraThick charcoal-gray clouds had covered the sky since Nora’s Monday night arrival on the Washington coast. Water-saturated air moistened her cheeks whenever she was outside.
The motel lawn was forested with multi-colored mushrooms. She’d spotted two parked cars with moss growing on their roofs. More horrifying was the green and black slime coating windowsills and porch railings.
She yearned to be back in Spokane with its blessed one hundred and seventy sunny days per year. Gig Harbor residents were lucky if they saw the sun on eighty.
Indoors, but still chilled to her core, she glanced at the inmate seated across the gray plastic table from her. This afternoon, she and Lisa Fiedler again had the visiting room to themselves. The gloomy vista through the window wall made Nora’s khak
