Seven Crumpled Dollar Bills on a Pine Table in Michigan

Her sleeves were rolled to her elbows, her skin pale in the kitchen light.

The blue wrist brace was gone. There was no heavy foundation makeup on her collarbone, just the plain, clear skin of a woman who had finally stopped looking over her shoulder.

“There is more coffee in the pot, Mike,” Sarah said, her voice lacking the rapid, nervous rush that continue reading …