He peeled out, bouncing through a half-frozen puddle and over a rocky bump. He kept his eyes on the road ahead, not looking around, not looking at her, not looking back, and the expression on his mouth was grim.
Before they hit the next curve, before the close-growing trees obscured the view behind them completely, she turned around in her seat and squinted through the dusty back window, her eyes focusing on a hint of movement.
The door to the building swung open.
And, in a sight she would never forget, she thought she saw the proprietor of The Market.
FB2 document info
Document ID: fac7241f-3161-4bb1-a694-95f04387bc75
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 7.12.2012
Created using: calibre 0.9.8, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software
Document authors :
Bentley Little
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