Chapter 17

Agatha is waiting patiently for her husband to come home from the office while pacing the floor. She has his dinner ready, and it was getting cold — dumplings are challenging to reheat on a wood-burning stove. He was later than usual. Nervously, she looked out the front window to see if he parked his VW, wiping her hands in her white linen apron. Then she looked up, toward the horizon. The clouds turned to splashes of red as another beautiful day ended. On the linden tree in her front yard, buds were forming, ready to burst into green leaves, but it’s still early in the season.