CHAPTER 45
When I step outside one morning and see a thin blanket of snow covering the prison campgrounds, my heart sinks as quickly as my teeth start to chatter. I don’t think it’s particularly colder than it’s been over the past few days, but something about seeing the snow on the ground makes it feel that much worse.
We’re deep into November now. I know because I’ve been counting down the days until my birthday.
Which is today. Happy birthday to me.
I wonder if this layer of snow is God’s sick and twisted practical joke. I hope he knows me well enough to understand I wouldn’t find this funny at all.
It’s been weeks since I finished up the job by the riverbank. Lately, I’ve been spending my days stacking crates of coal behind a large train depot, but this morning as I head out to my
