Chapter 3

“You’d better. I don’t want to worry that you died in some freak accident on the highway.”

“Not happening,” Wylie retorted. He gave John a fast hug. “Take care of yourself.”

“You, too,” John said, returning the hug. “Drive safe.”

“I will.”

He got back to his apartment a few minutes before the movers arrived. Once they’d packed everything into their truck and left, he got the suitcase he was taking with him, which held a couple of changes of clothes, his personal items, and his laptop, locked up for the last time, and went down to give Mrs. James his keys.

“There’s still some furniture up there that I don’t need,” he told her.

“No problem. I’ll call the local shelter to come pick it up. What they can’t use, they’ll sell.”

“You’re a good woman,” he replied. “But then I knew that.”

She gave an embarrassed shrug and hugged him. “You take care, and email sometimes to let me know how you’re doing.”