Claire looked away toward the pasture. “Depends what you call sleep.”
Ruth Ann followed her gaze to the horse lot. Daisy, the old bay mare Ben had loved, flicked her tail at flies near the barn.
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Claire looked away toward the pasture. “Depends what you call sleep.”
Ruth Ann followed her gaze to the horse lot. Daisy, the old bay mare Ben had loved, flicked her tail at flies near the barn.
The girls never needed an alarm clock. Fear woke them long before sunrise. Every morning, while the rest of the world slept peacefully, five…