Chapter 12 Fear

GEORGE.

The heel of my boot struck the floorboards in a steady, hollow rhythm. Tap. Tap. Tap. I leaned back, balancing my chair on its rear legs, and dragged my spoon through the thick gravy. Marta’s stew had finally cooled to a bearable temperature. Reliable. Predictable.

I liked predictable.

My...

Login and Continue Reading