CHAPTER
Another day. Another shift. Another never-ending march toward her next paycheck.
Margot walked through the front door, tossing her purse onto the couch and slipping out of her shoes with a sigh.
She shivered when her bare feet touched the cold laminate flooring. The clock ticked at her in greeting, a constant reminder of the relentless, merciless passing of time.
Time since she’d seen her little girl. Margot couldn’t even think about that. Where was Becky? Every once in a while, Margot liked to imagine that her daughter and this Xavier really were in love and had run away and were doing their best to live out their happily ever after.
Drisklay couldn’t tell her with certainty that this Xavier guy was a criminal, but all the signs pointed that way. Margot didn’t have the stomac
