The Delivery

Chapter 23

The sun across Rebecca’s face is so pleasing. The straps of the lawn chair press into her back, the Christmas tang of pine filling her lungs. Even with her eyes closed, she can sense the shadows of the bobbing branches playing across her eyelids.

When was the last time she came out to the front yard and just sat?

It is glorious.

She opens her eyes and notes with no small measure of satisfaction that the breeze is drizzling pine needles across Jackson’s roof.

Two blocks up, a black BMW turns onto the street, and she feels a stab of anxiety.

Rising quickly, she hustles inside before he can spot her.