“Are you coming with me?” I asked.

Arthur shook his head.

“Marcus is looking for me too,” he said.

“If I am there, it will only make him more desperate.”

“I will stay in the woods.”

“But I will be watching.”

I nodded, though my chest felt tight with fear.

I walked to the door of the cabin and opened it.

The cold night air hit my face, smelling of pine and damp earth.

My old delivery van was parked under the overhang of the trees.

It was the van I used every morning to haul my breakfast cart.

The metal racks inside rattled as I climbed into the driver’s seat.

I placed the wrapped ledger on the passenger seat next to me.

I started the engine.

The old motor coughed, then sputtered to life, its headlights cutting through the dark woods.

I backed out of the clearing and onto the gravel road.

The drive to the center of Oakhill took twelve minutes.

The roads were completely empty.

The small houses along the state route were dark, their occupants asleep.

These were the people I served every morning.