Fourteen
Sharon Wilson exited the warehouse, where she worked as a dispatcher for Black Truck Couriers, through the small door that opened onto the street at the rear of the warehouse. She locked the door and stopped on the footpath to light a cigarette. Then she headed towards her bus stop, located around the corner at the far end of the street, far enough away for her to enjoy her smoke before she caught the bus home.
Since John’s text message had told her that he would be out of town for the next few days, Sharon had decided to move back into their apartment. She hoped he’d be calmer by the time he returned. She hated staying at the women’s shelter. It was too depressing, and there were too many noisy kids in the place. Besides, she knew that deep down John loved her, despite his demo
