5
BECKY
Well, crap on a cracker.
After tugging my mitten off with my teeth, I pulled out my cell from my purse and called in to work. As it rang, I took in the snow that had fallen overnight. Not much, but enough to add another inch to the last round. It was flipping cold out, and I stomped my booted feet on the driveway as I stared at my car.
“Talia, hey, it’s Becky,” I said when a fellow nurse answered in the labor and delivery department. “Look, I’ve got a flat tire, and I’m going to be late.”
My driver’s side tire had been slashed. It had been obvious when I’d come down the walk, seeing the car off kilter, and even more obvious when the cut was on the side wall. No nail ever punctured that part.
I needed only one guess who’d done it. Todd, my deranged ex.
Yes, Todd. Slashing my
