CHAPTER 15

Marga awoke to the faint sound of her cell phone ringing. With an effort, she pried her eyes open. The pull of sleep was so strong, it took her a moment to see anything at all, to get her brain working in a logical way. Her bones were molten in her body, every single muscle weighed down by blocks of concrete. She peered at the clock on the nightstand. It was half past four in the afternoon—they’d only slept about three hours. No wonder I feel like something the cat has dragged in.

  The phone was still ringing, the sound coming through the open door to the hallway where she’d dumped her purse earlier. With a groan of exhaustion, Marga disentangled herself from Atticus, who had wrapped himself around her in his sneaky, monopolizing way. She wriggled free of one of his arms and one leg, but as soon as she pried off the other two limbs, the first two snuck around her again.

  “Atticus. Phone. Need to answer.”

  He grunte

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