Dig

by Dan Dillard

  ***

  Three hours away in Raleigh, Leah was crying on her mother’s shoulder and questioning what she had done. It suddenly felt like a crime. It felt wrong. It felt different than it had when she was back at home. Everything felt different.

  “I don’t know what came over me, momma,” she said. “Maybe I should go back and talk to him. Go back before he…”

  “You don’t worry about him,” her mother interrupted. “He’ll be fine. Men like him always are. You just take him to court and get what he owes you. You raise that boy right. You stay here where people respect and love you. You take care of you,” her mother said. She had no idea her daughter had just become a murderer.