paperwork filed 3 days ago. This woman was drowning. Ethan grabbed his coat.
Marcus, meet me at the garage. We’re making a stop. They stopped at a 24-hour pharmacy on the way. Ethan walked the aisles himself, ignoring the cashier’s stairs. Formula, the expensive kind, three cans, diapers, baby food, infant Tylenol, a soft blanket with stars on it. Then groceries from a deli still open for the holiday rush, real food, fresh fruit, good bread, things Clara Whitmore probably hadn’t afforded in months.
The building on Sedwick Avenue was
