“A well-known one apparently,” I retorted with optimistic sarcasm.

The last time I was at their place in town, I never picked up on this flock of cars. Whose were they? It was Springville after all.

However, the more I stepped down, the more I realized I recognized some of those cars in waiting. And, as if called upon by my fears, I watched the boy of my nightmare climb down a black G-wagon.

Higan Sinclair.

I halted my steps as my heart stilled. I hadn't seen him in so long yet ...