“The windshield wipers thrummed as Freya tried to peer through the downpour lashing at the window while she gripped at the steering wheel. Along the sides of the small road, cattails and reeds swayed wildly in the squall. It was nasty out there—cold, windy, and now this heavy rain. She pulled into the lot of the Ucky Star and put on the navy slicker she kept in the backseat. She tugged the hood over her pouf of red hair that became irritatingly static during a storm, grabbed the shopping bag of ...food on the passenger seat, then made a mad dash toward Freddie’s door, splashed by the sheet of water cascading down from the walkway above. The place looked like a sinking ship. Freddie let her in. The flimsy walls and windows rattled in the wind, and she heard a drip, drip, drip in the bathroom. A leak like that would drive her bonkers. Freddie took the shopping bag and helped her take off the rain slicker, then placed it on a hook by the door. He was in jeans and a turtleneck, a blanket slung over his shoulders.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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