9
Kira threw the bolt on the motel room door and tossed her bag onto the bed. A plastic bag filled with toiletries she had picked up from a nearby convenience store followed with a rustling thump. She heaved a weary sigh and took in her surroundings.
The room was small, and smelled faintly of disinfectant. The curtains and bedspread were a faded red. The room’s only window looked over the highway. She could hear the occasional vehicle roar past every few minutes. An amateur looking painting of a mountainous forest hung on the wall.
Home, sweet home.
The Redcliffe Inn wouldn’t have been her first choice for accommodations, but it was the only motel in the area. She peeked into the bathroom. It was tiny, but clean. Part of her desperately wanted to shower, but she was exhausted. The bus
