SUNDAY MORNING, I answered messages, called my sisters, and ran errands early so I could enjoy the mid-day sun. Putting on my bathing suit and sunscreen, I headed out to the complex pool. I ignored the kids splashing in the shallow end and swam back and forth across the deep end until my arms felt like over-cooked noodles. They barely had the strength to lift my body out of the water. I lay face down on one of the lounge chairs surrounding the now empty pool and relaxed as I let the heat of the sun warm my tired body.
I’d slid up into the seat so I could lay my PCD on the ground and read. I’d read several pages when I heard the soft whisper of bare feet on concrete. I ignored it, expecting the footsteps to pass and fade away, but instead they got closer, then stopped beside me, a shadow
