Page 4 of Snow's Storm


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“Just a thought, but we should probably go to Savannah,” London suggests. “Bad memories in Atlanta for Snow.”

“Makes for a longer trip, but I feel you on that,” I agree.

“I’m done feeding the chickens.” Snow emerges through the door, and the waver of her voice is evident. So timid, scared. I hate that.

“Are you hungry?” I ask, opening my arms for a hug.

She takes a few small steps, and I envelop her in my arms. “I am.”

“I’ll make us some breakfast. Coffee is ready unless London drank all of it.”

“Hey.” He chuckles. “Why is it always my fault?”

“Just is,” I say with a smirk.

She seems uncertain of what to do, so London slowly steps closer, aware she’ll react badly to any kind of sudden movement. He takes her hand and leads her to the table, offering her a mug of coffee.

“Here. I know you like blueberry in your coffee.” He passes Snow the bottle of blueberry-flavored syrup, and she gives him a smile.

Small victories.

“We know someone who’ll come to the house,” I tell her, and she nods. “I’ll call her later today.”

“We need a few groceries and supplies for Ever’s party,” London says as he takes a seat next to Snow.

She could stay, but I’d feel better if she comes along. We don’t know if the asshole who roughed her up will come after her.

“I don’t . . .” Snow trails off, hesitation clearly on her face.

London caresses her cheek. “We’re going to Savannah.”

I relax when she relaxes.

“Okay,” she says softly.

“Go on up and shower and dress,” I tell her, patting her hand. “Breakfast will be ready when you come back down.”

We watch her go before either of us speaks.

“Not as bad this time,” London whispers.

“No. I don’t want to push her, but I’m glad she’s starting to open up a little bit.”

“She’ll get through this,” he says after taking another bite of BBQ. “She has us. We’ll get her through it.”

“No doubt.”

Suddenly, Sal sticks his head into the kitchen. “Oh, good, you’re both here.”

I didn’t even hear him come in. I should put a lock on that door.

“What’s up?” I ask him.

Sal has a shit-eating grin on his face. “It’s time for Season Four.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Kind of an odd time to do it.”

“I’d like to center it around Halloween,” Sal says, his voice full of excitement. “You know, like a holiday special.”

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