The next week passed slowly, time crawling as the group kept hidden in Myrna’s tiny home. Hints of daylight snuck in through the cracks in the window shutters. But aside from that, there was no indication that there was a world beyond the front door.
There was little noise from the street, but on the occasion that footsteps fell too close to the door or fragments of a conversation were carried to them on the hot air, everyone in the house grew still. Nobody moved or spoke at those times. They only listened, waiting for the footsteps to pass by or the voices to fade.
Adelynn wondered if Ryl and the Firewalkers were listening to the noises outside in fear of being discovered. Or if, like her, they were listening with the hope that it was Myrna outside, returning to tell them what the next part...
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