Chapter Sixteen
The only thing Becky Friessen-Campbell knew for sure was that the front wheel was wobbling, and there was a whirring noise that only grew louder when she drove over forty-five miles per hour in the rented blue Toyota Corolla, which kept her well below the posted speed. Unfortunately, it had been the only vehicle the rental company had left.
Not only was it tiny and uncomfortable, but she’d had to pay nearly double the noted rental rate because the reputable rental company at the Seattle airport had been out of cars. How was that even possible? A tax and accounting convention, they’d said. Regardless, Becky was now driving a piece of junk. She was still choked that she’d been forced to pay the additional amount just because she wanted—no, needed to go home.
She’d left the
