White Spots on My Cheeks Led to an Unwanted Contract

plastic offering no answers to the questions spinning through my head.

I was sixty-eight years old, and for the first time in my life, I did not have enough money in my purse to buy a tank of gas.

I looked at the empty passenger seat, where the blue folder Beatrice had given me weeks ago had once sat.

I gripped the cold plastic steering continue reading …