Richard was about to admit defeat and come back the next day when their conversation over lunch played back in his head. Rain had said he was staying in a halfway house by the Rose Court Bridge. He could just head over there and try to find the place. Richard put his seat belt on, put his truck in gear, and did exactly that.
The sun was low in the sky and filled the horizon with brilliant hues of orange and red when he crossed the bridge. The colonial style halfway house stood out boldly amongst the modern homes surrounding it. The house was notably different, but somehow not out of place. It looked like a grandmother sitting comfortably in the middle of her many grandchildren.
Richard parked his truck along the curb before climbing out and strolling up the long brick walkway. He was all
