Raquel
The roads leading up to Van Straus’ winter home are serpentine, narrow, and dangerous. The terrain makes it difficult to make pinpoint turns, and the closer you get to the edge of the property, the thicker the forest becomes. It’s snowing today, grey clouds overhead blocking whatever sunlight the local meteorologist mistakenly promised. As far as Mondays go, this one’s a bleak one.
We use the lack of visibility to our advantage.
The black SUV comes to a screeching halt, skidding across the icy road for a couple of feet. The driver behind the wheel honks their horn, but we don’t budge, forcing him to get out of the car and approach.
I flag him down, distracting him with a sweet smile and an overall ditzy air. “Oh my God, hi! Thank goodness, I thought for sure I’d freeze to death
