8 NoraNora stood at the edge of a narrow blacktop drive that wound around and through a collection of battered single- and doublewide trailers.
The three flat-roofed singlewides in front of her were shorter than the freight trailers pulled by truckers. She guessed they were ten or eleven feet wide and maybe three times that long.
Much smaller than where she’d lived when she was a little kid. The mobile home she’d shared with her mother had been huge with lots of hiding places.
When she and her mom played hide-and-seek, Patty-Jean had to search for hours to find her.
Nora snickered. As if Patty-Jean had bothered to look.
No, her kid-brain believed otherwise, but she’d driven past that dusty trailer park later in life. The homes in it were tinier than the comparatively newer models at T
