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Legacy Writings
Category:
Mystery/Suspense
Publisher: Westbow Press
ISBN-10: 1490831207
Type: Fiction
Pages: 271
Copyright: 2014
ISBN-13: 9781490831206
Price: $3.99 (eBook)
Imprisoned in deceit, embittered by her broken engagement and overwhelmed by guilt and shame, Mackenzie Adams flees her desert home to become nanny to Elise Huntington, the infant child of Andrew Huntington, owner of a large realty corporation in Arkansas. Upon her arrival at Park House, Mackenzie finds herself encompassed in a murder investigation, her life threatened when she begins her own off-the-cuff search for the killer.
Entangled in a web of deceit and devastated by her broken engagement, Mackenzie Adams is overwhelmed by guilt and shame. Believing her "sin" is unforgiveable, Mackenzie flees her Arizona home, despite her parents' objection, and travels to central Arkansas to take on full-time employment as nanny to the child of Andrew Huntington, owner of a well-known land development corporation.
Terror strikes when Mackenzie arrives at the Huntington's historic estate, Park House, and discovers that Mr. Huntington's wife, jasmine, has been murdered.
Elise, the Huntingtons' baby girl, captures Mackenzie's heart. This relationship, along with the friendship of fellow employee, Angela Valincia, helps to offset the hostility Mackenzie tolerates from house manager, Mrs. Slater, and the unwelcome romantic pursuit of Greg Martin, Mr. Huntington's obnoxious chauffeur.
Her trust level in men below zero, Mackenzie's conception of the opposite sex is challenged when she meets her employer's nephew, Trace Patterson, the debonair vice president of Huntington, Inc.
Curious about Jasmine, Mackenzie senses a strong urge to search for her killer. With the aid of Angie, Mackenzie begins her surreptitious quest, ignoring the warning of jeopardy she might incur. Things heat up when Elise is kidnapped, Jasmine's attorney, Jason Crane, is murdered, and the killer discovers that Mackenzie has a clue that will identify him.
Excerpt
Chapter 1
Mackenzie Adams sat straight up in bed, her heart pounding. An icy sensation gripped the back of her neck and then slithered down her spine. Trembling, she held her breath, blinking to rid the drowsiness from her eyes. Her body tense with anticipation, she balled her hands into fists, preparing to do battle. She quickly skimmed the perimeter of her room, the murky glow of the night-light her only ally in the search for the intruder.
A moment later, she tilted her head in confusion. Squinting, she again scrutinized each shadowy corner of the bedroom. But as before, she saw no sign that danger lurked nearby. She stacked her palms against her stomach. So what accounted for the knot of fear clenching her insides like jaws of steel?
A blast of air from the cooling system sliced across her clammy skin. Shivering, she reached to straighten the tangled bedclothes but stilled her intention, realizing the nightmare she’d had moments before she awoke, not a burglar, had instigated her fright. The memory plunged into her thoughts like a sudden avalanche. Mackenzie clamped her hand across her mouth, stifling the cry of alarm that leaped to her lips. Shrinking deep into the bed, she dragged the covers to her chin, the scenario repeating in her mind like the recollection of an appalling YouTube video.
Mackenzie had stood near a large oak tree, its branches swaying back and forth against a strong wind, the gale so fierce she’d found it difficult to keep her feet on the ground. All of a sudden, she’d spied a tornado whirling toward her, the raging tempest wrenching limbs from the tree and hurling them into space.
She’d reached out to hug the trunk of the tree for support but had cowered in terror when it cracked and split apart before her eyes. Covering her head with her arms, she’d tried to run, but her legs had seemed frozen to the earth like stalagmites bound to the floor of a cave.
Mackenzie threw back the bedding and stood. The implication of the vivid vision was crystal-clear: she had to get away—had to flee the constant reminders that held her captive beneath the southwestern sun. Wisdom spoke it—her sanity required it. If she stayed, she would become like that oak tree—twisted, mangled, and torn apart, her life destroyed by the oppressive storm that besieged her night and day.
She shuddered, the sense of urgency stripping away any thought of further slumber. With a glance at the bedside clock, she switched on her table lamp. Soon it would be daybreak.
She thrust her feet into a pair of slippers and hurried to the entryway of her room. She cracked open the door and stole a peek toward the bedroom at the end of the hall. Relief zipped through her. All was quiet. She eased the door shut and hurried to the shower. Dressed within a few minutes, she pulled suitcases from the closet. Within less than an hour, she had her clothing and personal belongings packed and loaded into her car.
Back inside the house, Mackenzie tiptoed down the hallway, breaking her stride when a sudden glow of light appeared beneath Steve and Reagan Adams’s bedroom door. Her breath caught and held. Had she been longer in completing the task, her parents might have become aware of her plans much sooner than she desired. After slipping into her room, she leaned back against the door until her erratic heartbeat slowed to its normal pace.
She moved toward the window a moment later, opened the blinds, and gazed at the gorgeous sunrise glistening through the sheer curtains. Most people associated sunlight with hope. Did she dare believe a brighter future existed on the eastern slope of the continental divide? Mackenzie closed her eyes. She had to believe it. She just had to!
XXXXX
After pressing the back key on her iPhone, Mackenzie pocketed the device and then stepped into the hallway. She turned to take in the room she’d called her own for most of her life, her last two years of college the only exception. During that time, she’d had her own apartment close to the campus. As she glanced around the interior, nostalgia brushed a path across her thoughts. She and her friends had shared many happy moments in this room. Mackenzie’s shoulders slumped forward. Would she ever be that carefree again? If only she could erase the last year from her life. She sighed. Destiny moved forward, never backward.
Again, she surveyed the room. The decor in shades of rich southwestern colors had been a high school graduation gift from her parents. She and her mother had planned and decorated the room together. It had been one of the few times she’d felt close to Reagan. Mackenzie’s mouth curved downward. Days like that had been few. Her mother’s devotion to her job as an elementary teacher was understandable, but Mackenzie had yet to condone the excessive hours Reagan devoted to community service, the various projects year after year taking a toll on her relationship with her husband and child.
Mackenzie’s lips tightened. A quest for answers now would be like searching for water in a dry well. She shut the door to the sanctuary, closing off thoughts of her childhood at the same time. Without a backward glance, she walked toward the back of the house, grateful that she hadn’t let this chance for freedom slip away. She took a deep breath. Her future beckoned—and she intended to make the best of it.
About to enter the kitchen, she hesitated at the doorway, taking a moment to observe her mother, who stood at the counter, measuring pancake mix into a bowl. Catching a glimpse of Mackenzie, Reagan pushed back a strand of her dark hair flecked with gray and smiled.
“Well, you’re up early.”
“Yes. A—a dream woke me, and I couldn’t go back to sleep.” Mackenzie poured herself a cup of coffee and stirred in a spoonful of sugar and a dollop of cream before she took her usual place at the table. She knew her mother would spurn an offer to help with breakfast. Reagan preferred to handle family meals in her own time and way. Mackenzie smiled inwardly. Her mother might not be the most nurturing of women, but the best chef in the world would have to work hard to compete with her mother’s ability in the kitchen.
Mackenzie aimed a cautious glance toward her father, who sat at the other end of the breakfast nook, sipping coffee while he scanned the latest edition of the Arizona Republic. She took a drink of coffee. How would she ever be able to get her announcement past the bale of cotton in her mouth? She picked up a section of the paper from the table to read, but a glimpse at the scene outside the kitchen window diverted her attention.
The family cat crouched beneath the orange tree in their backyard, his gaze centered upon a robin splashing in the birdbath a few feet away. Just as the cat sprang to grasp its prey, the bird lifted its wings and flew to the top of the tree. A hint of a smile touched Mackenzie’s lips. Hooray for the robin, she thought. The cat’s tail moved back and forth as if daring the bird to budge from its lofty position. Sobering, she turned from the scenario, a sigh escaping her lips. She would miss the old fur ball. She closed her eyes. Like the bird, could she escape the enemy that stalked her?
Feeling her father’s gaze on her, she directed a look his way. The lines at the corners of his warm brown eyes crinkled from his smile. “If you’re going to read the newspaper that way, you’ll have to stand on your head.” All of a sudden his grin faded. “Is something wrong, Mackenzie?”
She righted the paper and laid it beside her plate. The sound of the whisk against the side of the mixing bowl ceased abruptly. Dead silence invaded the room. Her eyes downcast, Mackenzie observed her mother’s movements from beneath her long eyelashes. Pulling a griddle from the cabinet beneath the counter, Reagan glanced at her husband before she fixed a gaze on her child.
Mackenzie cringed inside, aware that the next few moments were sure to be agonizing for the three of them. Sighing, she held her hands tightly against her lap. There was no sense in putting off the inevitable any longer. “Mom, Dad, I have something to tell you. I didn’t want to say anything until after we’d eaten breakfast”—she pocketed her bottom lip between her teeth momentarily—“but I suppose now is just as good a time as any.”
The worried look in Steve’s eyes intensified. He leaned forward. “And that is?”
Mackenzie lifted her lashes to take in her father's features. It still amazed her that he'd never lost his Mississippi drawl, although he’d lived in the Southwest for many years. She swallowed hard. “I’ve accepted the offer from the Huntingtons. I e-mailed Mr. Huntington earlier to expect my arrival at their home on Thursday morning.”
The griddle slid from Reagan’s hand and landed on the floor, the clatter resonating in the sun-drenched room. Reagan stared at her daughter, her face clothed in disbelief.
“But that means—”
“Yes.” Mackenzie turned away, guilt pricking her at seeing the incredulous looks in their eyes. She straightened her posture, bolstering her resolve. “I have to leave this morning. I’m packed and ready to go. In fact, I loaded my car while you were asleep.”
Steve stood and walked away from the table. Bending, he picked up the griddle and placed it on the stove burner. Without a word, he left the room.
Mackenzie flicked a piece of lint off the tablecloth, her breathing ragged. She filched a glance at her mother, who stood stock-still, staring into space. A moment later, the smell of burning bacon filled the air. Reagan’s nose wrinkled, her violet-blue eyes, the likes of which Mackenzie had inherited, widening. Reagan did an about-face and then resumed her task of preparing breakfast, her full mouth drawn tightly against her face.
Mackenzie waited, aware that any second, her mother would bare her thoughts without reservation. Mackenzie steadied her torso against the back of her chair as if steeling against a blow from an iron fist.
Her eyes acute with anger, Reagan faced her daughter. “Mackenzie Dawn Adams, do you realize how hard your father and I have worked all these years to see a college diploma in your hands? A master’s degree, for heaven’s sake! Or the sacrifices we made through the years to put aside money every month for your education?” Reagan’s lips trembled. “Beginning the day you were born. Your father, eager to start saving for your college education right away, stopped by the bank that same afternoon to open an account. When he returned to the hospital, he waltzed into my room as proud as I’ve ever seen him.” Reagan glared at Mackenzie. “How could you throw all that away to become a glorified babysitter? What’s come over you?”
Mackenzie swallowed the retort that leaped to her lips, allowing the heat that singed her cheeks to cool before she spoke. “Mom, you know I appreciate what you and Dad have done for me. My grades should speak for that.” Mackenzie’s eyes snapped. “In case you don’t remember, I wore a summa cum laude stole around my neck during graduation.”
Mackenzie lowered her gaze. And what effort that had taken to accomplish this past semester! She drew a long breath, hating her brusqueness. “I’m sorry, Mother,” she said, softening her voice. “You and Dad have given me much more than I’ll ever deserve.”
Reagan slammed a glass of orange juice down next to Mackenzie’s plate, staring at the liquid when it mushroomed over the rim and dripped onto the tablecloth. She grabbed a nearby napkin and dabbed at the spill, halting the cleanup to peruse her daughter’s face.
“You’ve changed. You used to be so animated, full of life. Does this decision of yours have something to do with your broken engagement? Surely you’ve ceased mourning over that. Believe me, there are plenty of other guys out there much more responsible than Zachary Gilbert.”
Mackenzie flinched. Mourning? What an understatement! The mention of her former fiancé burned in her heart like salt poured into a wound. If only she hadn’t listened to Zack or yielded to his scheme, hadn’t believed the promise he’d later thrown to the wind.
Mackenzie’s jaw tightened. She choked back angry tears. Why had she let herself be used? She grimaced as the answer swooped into her thoughts. Swayed by Zack’s charm, she’d been blind to his true nature. Her eyes narrowed. She had meant nothing more to him than an easier ride to his doctorate, her love for him a mere pawn in his hands. Her mouth twisted. Oh, how he’d pleaded for her to understand that he wasn’t yet ready for marriage. And then to find out he’d been dating a college junior while I worked extra hours so he could devote his entire time to his education. Mackenzie’s cheeks burned. How could she have been so deceived?
With a slight shake of her head, Mackenzie tilted her chin to glimpse her mother, who now leaned against the sink counter, fanning her flushed face with a dish towel.
“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” Reagan said, pausing to take a deep breath.
A plea for understanding in her eyes, Mackenzie opened her mouth to speak but clamped it shut. No need to waste her breath expounding on all the courses she’d taken on the development of children in order to earn her MA in family relations and child development, not to mention all the hands-on experience she’d had in her teen years. The hardness in her mother’s eyes told Mackenzie the attempt would be futile.
“Don’t you think we’ve discussed it enough?” Mackenzie glanced away. The heated debates with her parents in the last two weeks about the subject of employment had been plenty of deliberation for her.
She glimpsed the hands on her wristwatch and then pushed her empty plate toward the middle of the table. All of a sudden, breakfast at a fast-food restaurant on her way out of town seemed much more apropos at the moment. Mackenzie stood.
“It’s getting late. I should get on the road. I suppose Dad left for work?”
“No, I haven’t. Not yet,” Steve said, entering the kitchen.
At the sound of his voice, Mackenzie turned and smiled at her father. “I’m glad you’re still here. I-I would have hated not being able to tell you good-bye.”
“I called in to say I’d be late this morning.”
“Good,” Reagan said, tossing the towel onto the counter. “Maybe you can talk some sense into your daughter before she wanders off into God knows where.”
Mackenzie rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Mom, you know exactly where I’m going—Little Rock, Arkansas.” Seeing a flicker of sadness march across the ire lodged in her mother’s eyes, Mackenzie softened her features.
“Mom!” Mackenzie darted a glance toward her father. “Dad! I know you don’t understand, but this is something I have to do. I love you both very much, and I’m sorry I’ve hurt you, but you need to trust me on this one. And please—let’s not argue about it anymore,” she said, an appeal for their support in her eyes. “I intend to keep my word to the Huntingtons.” She faced her father. “Dad, you’ve always taught me to follow through with my decisions if I believe in them.”
Steve nodded. “Yes, that’s true.” His eyes misted. “But in this case—please forgive me—I don’t comprehend this endeavor of yours at all.” He swallowed hard, causing the Adam’s apple in his long, slender neck to bob up and then down.
Unable to bear the sadness in his eyes, Mackenzie turned from his searching gaze. She reached out to give her mother a hug, but Reagan drew away from the embrace. Mackenzie gasped. Staggering backward, she turned toward the built-in desk in the corner of the kitchen, where she’d stowed her handbag the night before. She grabbed the purse and rushed out the back door.
Steve’s words to his wife, insisting they see their daughter off, rang in Mackenzie’s ears. A moment later, the couple stood on the driveway of their middle-class Phoenix, Arizona, home, a volley of emotions crisscrossing their features.
Steve cleared his throat. “Well, Mackenzie, I can see that you’re determined to go through with this. Is there nothing we can say or do that will change your mind?”
Mackenzie shook her head. “I’m so sorry.” She closed her eyes, unable to bear the despair in his eyes. When she opened them again, her father stood at her side. He slid his hand inside his sports coat, withdrew an envelope from the inside pocket, and placed it in Mackenzie’s hand.
“For days, I’ve felt this moment would come. So I made sure this would be available.”
Mackenzie opened the envelope and glanced inside, her eyes widening. “Dad, I have some money saved.”
Steve shook his head when she started to hand back the envelope. “No. You may need some things before you get your first paycheck.”
Mackenzie reached out and hugged her father. “Thanks, Dad. You know I’ll pay you back.”
“Yes.” A slight grin lifted one side of his mouth. “Your mother often tells me how much we're alike. But this is a gift, Mackenzie, not a loan.”
The image of her father blurred. She glanced toward Reagan, and a sharp pain twisted inside Mackenzie’s chest. Her mother stood rigid, her face tight and unyielding. Mackenzie leaned her head on her father’s chest, harboring the love she sensed in the tightness of his embrace. She opened her lips to speak, but the words she longed to utter stuck in her throat. After another quick hug, she unlocked her car.
Once settled behind the wheel, Mackenzie observed her parents through the windshield. Her stomach lurched at the sight of her father’s grief. She found it odd that she hadn’t noticed how much his dark brown hair had grayed in the last year.
In contrast, the hostility revealed on her mother’s face seemed merciless like the heat of the sun striking the rocks in their desert-landscaped yard. Mackenzie could hold back the tears no longer, aware that she alone possessed the blame for their misery. She glanced at the envelope on the seat beside her. She didn’t merit one ounce of her father’s generosity.
Mackenzie tightened her grip on the key ring to steady her hand. At last able to feed the key into the ignition, she gave them a wobbly smile as the car sprang to life. Guilt surged through her. They deserved to know the reason behind her departure. Mackenzie’s shoulders caved in at the notion. No. She could never share that part of her life—it would destroy their love for her altogether. Blinking back the tears, she slipped on her sunglasses and then shifted the car into reverse.
She backed the car down the driveway. It’s now or never, she thought. Once on the street, she braked the car for a final wave. Only her father responded in return. A moment later, she pressed the accelerator, steering the eight-year-old Camry toward a new beginning filled with promise—a future she could only hope would somehow vanquish her heartbreak.
She glanced backward for one last look at her parents. If only she had never met Zack. Mackenzie pulled a tissue from a box beneath the dashboard and brushed away the rebellious tears that rolled down her cheeks. Would her parents someday forgive her? Maybe, but they would never understand how she could turn down the counselor’s position she'd been offered at a prominent women’s hospital in the Valley. Not in a million years.
If only she could find the courage to turn the car around and pour out her soul to them. She stilled the thought. The secret she lived with would have to remain hidden in her heart like an unattended, forbidden garden—a garden secluded from humanity and guarded by unspoken words.
Mackenzie’s eyes widened when a pickup truck cut in front of her car. She slammed on the brakes. “Whew! That was close.” Her shoulders shaking, she shifted her weight in the seat. If she wanted to reach her destination all in one piece, she needed to concentrate on her driving.
Later, when traffic thinned, Mackenzie relaxed her shoulders. Now able to cruise along the interstate, her thoughts drifted to the new employment waiting at the end of her ambiguous journey. A vague smile touched her lips. Had early explorers experienced similar uncertainty at the onset of their exploits into uncharted territory? But in spite of the turmoil within her, she sensed that she’d made the right choice. Mackenzie sighed. Someone had once said, “Time heals all wounds.” Would time and distance mend the gap in the relationship with her parents or widen it? Still, she could hope for the best.
As she exited to travel north on Interstate 17, Mackenzie’s heartbeat quickened. Once she made her home in Arkansas, would the agony that awoke with her each morning and wrecked any thought of peaceful rest at night vanish from her mind? The state carried the motto “The Land of Opportunity.” Would it become a land of opportunity for her? She glanced around at the nearly lifeless desert terrain. Please, please, let it be so!
All of a sudden, the image of the church she’d attended in childhood stole into her thoughts, along with the memory of the pastor’s often-spoken encouragement to his congregation to give their cares to God; he insisted that He was a safe harbor where all could anchor their hope and faith. A bitter laugh spilled from her throat. How could she dare fathom for a split second that God or her parents might forgive her sin?
Mackenzie pushed her hand tightly against her chest. Would she have to live with this ache in her heart for the rest of her life? Coiling one side of her hair behind her ear, she narrowed her eyes. She had to focus on her future, not the past. If not, she would be an emotional wreck by the time she landed on Mr. Huntington’s doorstep.
Mackenzie jumped at the sound of her cell phone. She fumbled in her purse to retrieve the device and smiled when she saw a text from her best friend since her kindergarten days, Kari Wysong. Mackenzie glanced back and forth between the road and her phone, and her eyes widened as she scanned the message.
“Just met Brad Pitt. Will phone tonight with details. My heart still racing.”
Pushing the back key on her phone, Mackenzie laughed, convinced that the evening ahead would prove entertaining.
Kari, who’d chosen to attend a prestigious nanny school in the Midwest instead of college, had, like Mackenzie, received a diploma a few weeks ago. The two friends hoped to embark on their careers before the end of summer. Mackenzie recalled the evening she had learned about Kari’s job offers soon after her friend had returned to Arizona.
“So which position have you decided to take?” Mackenzie had asked while the girls enjoyed a meal at their favorite restaurant.
Lines distorting her brow, Kari had taken a sip of cola before she’d replied. “Well, they both offer good salaries and benefits, but I intend to accept the one in California. Los Angeles is just a short flight from Phoenix. I can visit my family often.” Kari grinned. “And think about the celebrities I might get to meet.” She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. “Who would have thought I would become a nanny to the children of a Hollywood star?”
During the conversation, Mackenzie’s eyes had lit up with inspiration. After a lengthy inquiry about the nanny post in Arkansas and the criteria needed for the job, Mackenzie had decided she would take advantage of the opportunity and apply for the position.
With that in mind, the girls had driven to the Southwest placement center for the nanny school the next day. A few days later, Sharon Breckenridge, the director of the center, had phoned Mackenzie to inform her that she would have a phone interview with the Huntingtons later that week. Unlike her parents, Kari, although surprised by Mackenzie’s change in career options, had supported her friend without question. Mackenzie frowned. Her friend knew nothing of the true motive behind Mackenzie’s desire to build a life so far from home. “And,” Mackenzie muttered, “I intend to keep it that way.” Her irreversible action several weeks ago had jeopardized her relationship with her parents, and she had no desire to lose her best friend as well.
Mackenzie adjusted the settings to the seat cushion for a more comfortable ride. The memory of her conversation with Mrs. Breckenridge just before the scheduled conference call filled her mind.
“You are aware, I’m sure, Miss Adams,” the director had said, peering at Mackenzie over her glasses, “that your education and child-care experience far exceed the limit for a qualified nanny. And the reports from your references were”—Mrs. Breckenridge smiled—“well, glowing, to say the least. It’s obvious you have a good rapport with children.”
Mackenzie had reddened. “Yes, ma’am, I do love caring for them. That’s one of the reasons I feel I’m right for this job. And it would help me better understand that type of family environment—a hands-on situation that I believe would aid a future career in family counseling.”
Mrs. Breckenridge had taken a long moment to scrutinize Mackenzie’s features. Shaking her head, she’d punched in the phone number. By the end of the conference call with Andrew and Jasmine Huntington, the couple and Mrs. Breckenridge had been convinced that Mackenzie Adams would be the ideal nanny for the couple’s baby girl. However, when Mackenzie had stopped by the agency a few days ago to pick up her copy of the contract, Mrs. Breckenridge’s departing advice had shaken the core of Mackenzie’s innermost being.
“Dear, please remember,” the director had said as she’d laid her hand on Mackenzie’s arm, “you can’t run away from your problems forever. Sooner or later, you’ll have to face that giant and stare him down. And God will help you if you ask Him .”
Mackenzie’s eyes had widened; the gentleness and compassion in the woman’s gaze had been compelling. Mackenzie had been aware that if she didn’t walk out the door that instant, the truth she held in her heart would spill from her lips, laid bare for the world to judge. Her cheeks flaming, she’d stammered something about being late for another appointment and hastened from the building. Had she stayed, Mrs. Breckenridge would have understood within moments just why God wanted nothing to do with Mackenzie Adams.
Mackenzie swerved the car to miss a piece of tire cap lying on the road, the movement jarring her attention back to the present. Another mile down the road, a rest-area sign caught her attention. A couple moments later, she drove onto the exit, believing some fresh air would clear her mind.
Feeling rejuvenated after a short walk, Mackenzie returned to her car. Excitement she hadn’t experienced in some time stirred within her. Maybe she could find solace and relinquish the pain associated with the memory of Zack after all. If so, any sacrifice she’d have to make for that accomplishment would be worth it.
Close to an hour later, nearing Flagstaff, the snow bowl of Arizona, she glanced toward Humphrey’s Peak. The past cold season hadn’t produced enough snowfall to entice winter sports enthusiasts to the area, as in prior years. However, one mountaintop towering above all the other peaks around it seemed to defy the status quo with its fluffy white bonnet sparkling beneath the rays of sun. As the mountain shied away from her view, a rush of fortitude gripped Mackenzie. Just as the mountains rose from the nearly useless desert floor, somehow, someway, she would rise from the dregs of the last few months. Nonetheless, just as snow continued to blanket the mountaintop, she knew she would never get away from the remorse that shrouded her soul. She could only hope it would become less painful in the days to come.
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