ight dollars at my checkout seemed like nothing. I had no idea it would send me searching through my mother’s past – and toward a truth someone had gone to extraordinary lengths to hide.
At forty, I had become very good at living a life that required almost nothing from me.
I lived alone in the house where my mother had raised me and worked at the same grocery store where she’d once worked.
Jenna had become my closest friend and the nearest thing to family after Mom died.
She watched me hand a regular his Friday lottery ticket.
“Six years here and you know everyone’s routine.”
A life that required almost nothing from me.
“Pretty much.”
“Doesn’t that drive you crazy?”
