“Although he hadn't seen her in two years, he recognized her immediately. Those same hazel eyes met his each morning in the mirror. Her chin, raised pugnaciously, was a smaller version of his, though the cleft was less noticeable. Her dark brown hair, too, matched his, but her thick hair was wavy while his was too short to be anything but straight.He took one step closer but no more. "What're you doing here?""I work here," she replied flatly. She motioned to his shirt. "I see nothing's changed—y...ou're still a jailbird."Hank glanced down at the words Wilson Correctional Facility stenciled above the left breast pocket. He'd become so accustomed to it, he rarely thought about the label that branded him a prisoner. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to rip the damned shirt off, but instead crushed the ball cap he held between his hands. "Only for another few months.""Congratulations." Dawn's voice oozed with sarcasm. "Don't bother inviting me to your getting-out party." She turned away.Before Hank could stop himself, he grabbed Dawn's wrist."Mr.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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