12
ELLEN
Carrying a basket, I walked down the main thoroughfare to the Mercantile, being stopped frequently by those I'd met at church, or by those who had not had the opportunity, but took one now. I felt...content and happy, something that had been missing for a long time. The deaths of my parents had been the catalyst for the change, culminating in Allen's death. This entire time, I'd felt alone. Now, I belonged. It wasn't just Ryder that gave me that level of comfort, but everyone in August Point. Almost everyone. The fear, that heavy weight that I carried, was lifting as well.
Entering the Mercantile, I approached the counter and asked the man for two pounds of coffee, knowing our coffer was close to empty. After the introductions, I realized this was Mr. Murphy senior. He and his
