Chapter 30Later that day, before the golden sun dipped beneath the distant horizon, I walked Paula home two blocks down on Steiner Street.
Her single-story home was ominous against the background of late afternoon. Overgrown shrubs and a garden gone to seed.
We stood at the front door, Paula fumbling with her keys, her hands shaky. I watched her struggle and volunteered my help.
She declined, shaking her head, and fingering the right key and sliding it into the slot. Maybe she was embarrassed from our talk that morning, but she never made eye contact with me. Strands of her hair fell across her face.
She looked down at the ground, then up at the front yard.
“What are you going to do about work?” I asked.
She shrugged, sniffled. “I don’t know.”
“If you need help with money, let me kn
