She was a fugitive, lost in a storm. That was when she saw the sign: motel - vac
ancy. The sign was unlit, the motel dark.
She switched off the engine, and sa
t thinking, alone and frightened. She had nobody. The stolen money wouldn't help
her, and Sam couldn't either, because she had taken the wrong turning; she was
on a strange road.
There was nothing she could do now - she had made her grav
e and she'd have to lie in it. She froze. Where had that come from? Grave.
