She wore faded sweatpants despite the Georgia heat and an oversized gray shirt that hung from her shoulders.fir
A scarf was wrapped around her head.
She bent down slowly, bracing one hand against the shed wall like standing upright was exhausting.
Then the bucket slipped from her fingers.
Dirty water splashed across the gravel.
The woman flinched.
And I heard my sister’s voice from an open kitchen window.
“Seriously, Naomi?”
My entire body went cold.
Kendra leaned through the window.
“Mom told you to finish those before lunch. We have people coming over.”
The woman looked up.
It was my wife.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
The sunflowers slipped from my hand.
“Naomi?”
Her face changed instantly.
Not joy.
Not relief.
Fear.
Pure fear.
She stepped backward so quickly that her shoulder hit the shed.
Her hands flew to the scarf around her head.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
