EMMA SCANNED THE LIST of job openings, her gaze blurring over the nonsensical descriptions. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep and hours spent on the computer in an attempt to keep her mind busy.
She glanced at her cell phone, willing it to ring. Three days. It had been three days since the Honeybun men had left to retrieve their uncle Brick. Three days of worry, terror, and a recurring certainty that Clovis would be killed.
“Look, Mama!”
Emma turned to see the brightly colored picture Cilla had drawn. She pulled the little girl onto her lap, kissing the top of her head. “Very pretty, Cilly pilly.” The figures on the page were bent and distorted, with huge hands and feet. Emma recognized the smallest figure. “Is this you?”
Cilla’s head bobbed up and down. She pointed a stubby finger to
