Chapter Eight
Lucy
The following day, I leaned against a sawhorse at our current project with a sigh. A raven called from the trees nearby. I watched as it took flight from a cluster of cottonwood, a dark shadow against the bright blue sky. I loved all of the seasons in Alaska, but I was particularly fond of late summer. A soft breeze blew across the lot where we were building. The property was nestled amongst rolling hills on the outskirts of Willow Brook. Denali was peeking above the trees in the distance. I stared into the field off to the side where fireweed was blooming. The common w**d bloomed in waves of bright fuchsia flowers across Alaska in late summer, splashes of color in the already stunning landscape.
I turned to reach for my water bottle, reflexively with my right hand. W
