CHAPTER EIGHT
Friday night came around fast. Hana’s comfort levels grew, the threat of attack almost unreal as Logan’s safety precautions made them harder to trace. Hana relaxed and failed to notice her tendency towards sloppiness.
Work and the pain in his arm exhausted Logan and he slept after the long drive home under the influence of strong painkillers. One evening, Hana nipped into Ngaruawahia to the post office to post a letter to Izzie and ended up in the local supermarket, buying so much food her trolley overflowed. A packet of sanitary towels did a peculiar dance and hurled themselves onto the floor. As she bent to retrieve them, her fingers contacted the hand of a man in a business suit who also reached for them. Her fear rushed back like a burst dam. “Sorry.” He sat the bright
