““Hi, Mrs. Coley,” Jen said as she fastened her seat belt in the backseat. “Jennifer, it’s good to see you.” The woman who turned away from the steering wheel had boyish short gray hair and a welcoming smile. “Hi,” Sam said, leaning forward with her hand extended. “I’m Samantha Forster. I’ve seen you drive by, but I don’t think we’ve met.” Sam often felt a moment of uncertainty about people she’d known before the accident. This time, Rachel’s huffing didn’t help, but Mrs. Coley’s handshake could...n’t have been friendlier. “Nice to meet you, Samantha. I’m Helen Coley. I know your grandmother, Grace, from church.” Sam squirmed a little. Although both Dad and Gram were devout people, they had an ongoing battle about church. Gram believed folks liked to join together with the minister to pray for rain. Dad thought it gave them false hope, no different from teasing winds, which blew through carrying the smell of wet grass and rain-slick rocks from some luckier place.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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